Game of Thrones: The Direwolves in the North
by Amara Lightskipper
Summary: The Stark siblings had been separated and on the run ever since the consistent tragedies came to their family. On their journey home, the remaining Starks encounter different people. Some old friends, some considerable allies, and some enemies.
1. The Brotherhood Without Banners

_Arya fled the Twins_. Before anyone else finds out that she had killed Lothar Frey and Black Walder Rivers and baked them into a pie and served them to their father, Walder Frey before slitting his throat. Doing that, she had finally avenged the deaths of her mother, and her brother, Robb during the Red Wedding, as everyone puts it.

Now, she was on her way to the Wall. Hopefully, her brother Jon is still with the Night's Watch. Jon could possibly be her only living family left. She had to get to him.

After their father was executed, she and her siblings hadn't seen each other. Her eldest brother Robb rebelled against King Joffrey, while her sister Sansa was basically a hostage in King's Landing. On the other hand, she was smuggled out of the Capital by Yoren, a brother of the Night's Watch. He had to cut her hair short and had her pass of as a boy, so no one would recognize her. And when Robb went to war, Winterfell was sacked, and she had no idea where or what had happened to her younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. Or if they are still alive.

Arya decided to stop for the night. Clearly, she's still in the Riverlands. She might've spent a night in an Inn somewhere, but she couldn't risk being seen. With everything that has happened: her father beheaded, her mother and brother murdered, her other siblings' unknown whereabouts, there's probably a huge bounty on any Stark's head by now.

Just as she was going to settle deep in the woods, a hand clamped her mouth from behind. About a few yards away, she could make out a stocky man, holding out a torch.

"Hello there," The man said. "What in seven hells is a little lady like you wanderin' 'round these woods in the hour of the wolf?" He asked.

Before she could answer, a burlap sack was placed over her head.

Arya struggled as she was slung over someone's shoulder. Her captors were probably already annoyed by her fits and something hit her from the back of her head, and she lost consciousness.

. . .

Arya woke with someone shaking her. She still had the burlap sack over her head so she couldn't see anything. She began to move and realized her hands were bind by the wrists. Panicked, she patted her waist, and noticed that her sword, Needle was gone.

"Who are you?" Arya shouted to no one in particular.

No one answered. They just pulled her up to stand and guided her to walk.

"Where are you taking me?" She demanded.

"Quit yappin', girl." The man guiding her on the left said. "Just keep walkin'."

For probably a few yards, they stopped.

"Lord Beric," The one on her right said. "We found this one wandering in the woods."

When she heard the name, anger surged through her. Beric? Beric Dondarrion? _Oh, great!_ Arya thought. _She's back with them._ _Again!_

Two hands guided her forward. From where she stood, she could feel heat of a nearby fire.

The burlap sack was removed from her head, and her suspicion was right. She was back in a cave with walls consisting of stone and soil interrupted by the huge roots of Weirwoods.

Hollow Hill, the hideout of the Brotherhood without Banners.

Beric Dondarrion stood before her, holding the burlap sack. At first, he was frightened, like he had just seen a ghost. Then he quickly gave a nervous smile. "Welcome back, my lady." He greeted.

She glanced at her surroundings and recognized a few people who had captured her, Gendry, and Hot Pie before. And for some reason, Sandor Clegane, the Hound, who had wide eyes when he saw her.

Arya glared at everyone. "Everyone's here." She spoke up. "Good. I can take care of a few people on my list." She meant it. Firstly, because they sold Gendry to some Red witch after he said he wanted to join them; and secondly, because they promised to return her to her relatives in Riverrun, and they didn't.

"Why am I not surprised that you're here again?" The Hound spoke up.

Arya started forward, but two men held her back. "I should've killed you when I had the chance." She gritted her teeth at the Hound.

"You had your chance, girl." The Hound recalled. "Now, I'm here because of you."

Thoros of Myr, the drunken red priest walked in with a couple of firewood and happened to glance her way. When he got a closer look at her, he gasped like a little girl and stepped back, tripping himself and dropping the firewood.

"A ghost!" He shrieked.

Arya rolled her eyes annoyance. "If I was a ghost, you wouldn't have captured me," She said. "Because I could've just disappeared out of sight."

"Idiot!" The Hound said, smacking Thoros on the back of his head. "That's no ghost, the girl is _Arya Stark of Winterfell_."

When the Hound mentioned her name, everyone gasped. _Great, he just announced that I'm some highborn lady._ Arya thought. _This day couldn't get any worse._

"Oh," Thoros stood and approached Arya. He had one hand on her bound wrists, and the other cupped her chin. He studied her face. "You look like that lady that Targaryen prince abducted."

"I—what?" Arya asked in confusion.

"Oh, yes," Thoros said, looking right in her eyes. "The same dark hair, the same steel grey eyes, the same pale complexion of the North and the same feisty attitude. You're her spitting image!"

"What in seven hells are you talking about?" Arya shrieked, shaking herself free from Thoros' grasp.

" _Lyanna Stark!_ " Thoros blurted out. "The wolf maiden of Winterfell. Well, until she was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "My aunt, Lyanna died before I was even born." She said. "What's that got to do with me?" She asked.

Thoros glanced at the fire. "The Lord of Light is showing it in the flames, child." He said, turning back to her. "History is going to—"

"Thoros, shut up!" Beric interrupted, shoving him away from Arya. "You're frightening the girl." He started forward. "Forgive us, Princess," He bowed, as he pulled a knife from his belt and cut off her binds. "We hardly recognized you." He took her sword, Needle from one of her captors and handed it back to her.

Arya took back Needle and placed it on her belt. "I'm no princess," She said. "So, don't call me that."

"Ah, the princess is being modest." The Hound said, amused. "The little lady has matured."

Arya drew her sword, Needle and pointed it at the Hound. "Call me 'princess' one more time and I'll skewer you."

The Hound only laughed at her remark. "You're tiny sword can't hurt me, little lady. You know what happened the last time."

Arya glared at him. "Don't call me 'princess'. I'm not one." She said.

"Oh, but you are." Thoros spoke up. "Your brother is King in the Nor—"

"My brother is dead!" Arya interrupted.

The Hound shrugged. "You have other brothers." He recalled. "The bastard, the cripple, and the toddler, respectively."

Jon, Bran, and Rickon, her three remaining brothers. She missed them so much. Arya sighed as she slung back Needle to her belt. "I haven't seen them since I left for King's Landing."

"One of them's the new King in the North." Beric said. "The one they call Jon Snow, now Jon Stark. He now sits at Winterfell." He explained. "Together with your sister."

Arya gave a sideways smile hearing it, then she frowned. "What about my two younger brothers?" She asked.

"No one has seen Brandon and Rickon Stark since Winterfell was sacked." Beric stated.

A mixture of sad and happy expressions played across Arya's face. Now, she actually knew where she's going, home. To Winterfell, not the Wall. Jon's back home and so is Sansa. Wherever Bran and Rickon were, she hoped they were still alive.

"So, what now?" Arya spoke up. "You're going to ransom me off again?" She asked.

"You're lucky it was the Brotherhood that found you, little lady." The Hound said. "Not the Wolf pack."

Arya frowned. "The Wolf pack?" She repeated.

"There's this pack of wolves roaming the Riverlands." Thoros explained. "People travelling at night have disappeared."

"Enough of this," Beric said. "We're not going to ransom you off, my lady. You're here as our guest."

Arya narrowed her eyes. "So, I can walk away then?" She asked.

"The night is dark and full of terrors." Thoros said. "We can't have the Princess in the North wanderin' around by herself."

Arya unsheathed Needle again and pointed it at the Red Priest's throat. "What did I say about calling me 'princess'?" She reminded him.

Thoros put his hands up in surrender. "My apologies, little lady. This is merely a kind offer to compensate from our last encounter."

"The drunken cunt's right." The Hound said. "And besides, you're wounded." He pointed at her stomach.

Arya looked down and realized her clothes were once again soaked in blood on the abdomen area. Her wounds from her encounter with the waif in Braavos might've reopened when she struggled to free herself from her captors.

"You need to patch that up, little lady." The Hound said. "We don't the Wolf Pack to find us just because you're bleeding."

Beric turned to someone behind her. "Boy," He called. "Get the little lady here and treat her wounds."

"Yes, Lord Beric." The boy replied.

There's something about the boy's voice that sounded familiar. It sounded like… _No, that's impossible_. She thought. _He's gone._ Out of curiosity, she turned and saw a tall, muscular young man standing not far from her. Could it be…?

"Gendry?" Arya called in a small voice. She approached and locked eyes with him. "Is that really you?" She asked.

Gendry smiled. "Aye, m'lady." He said, his blue eyes twinkled in the firelight. "Hello Arya."

Arya smiled widely. "Gendry!" She squealed and leaped into his arms, giving him a huge hug. "You're alive! I thought I'd never see you again."

Gendry returned the same hug. "I'm here now." He assured. "I missed you, Arya."

Arya started tearing up. "I missed you too."


	2. Gendry's Choice

Gendry escorted Arya to a more quiet area near the firepit, which was as hot and humid as she remembered when she was captured the first time. He settled her down carefully on a makeshift sleeping mat.

"You've come a long way, my lady." Gendry said as he helped her settle down with her back leaning against one of the many rock formations of the cave.

Arya punched him on his arm. "Don't call me that." She said.

"Ow!" Gendry yelped, rubbing his arm. "Alright, sorry. Your punches are getting harder though." He said. "But still, it's very unladylike."

Arya made a face and rolled her eyes at him.

Gendry pulled her shirt up and revealed a bandaged wound all soaked up with blood. There was so much blood that even her clothes were wet with it.

"With all these blood," Gendry said. "I can tell that it's a deep one." He faced her. "So, what have you been doing?" He asked.

"It's a long story." Arya said. "And you don't want to know."

Gendry pulled one end of the blood-soaked bandage and started removing it. They were red and sticky.

"Well," He said. "With all these blood, it'll take me awhile. Which means you have plenty of time to explain."

"You'll see how I was wounded, when you finish unwrapping it." Arya said.

Gendry's brows went up. "Alright, then." He unwrapped the blood sticky bandage and revealed three cut wounds on her abdomen area. One was a long slash just above her navel, and two deep stab wounds just beside and below it. "Well, these are nasty cuts."

"They were healing." Arya insisted. "Until your _friends_ captured me. They must've started bleeding again when I struggled trying _not to be captured_."

Gendry dabbed a cloth on Arya's wound and cleaned it with water. "Well, you don't have to worry about these cunts treating you nastily. You're a Princess."

"Don't call me that." Arya said. "It's worse than being called 'm'lady'. And it doesn't sound right."

"Why not?" He asked. "Your brother's a king—"

"Just shut up about it already!" She interrupted.

Gendry held his hands in surrender. Then he pulled a new bandage and started wrapping it around her waist so it would cover all three of her wounds.

Arya faced him. "So, what are you doing here?" She asked.

Gendry smirked like it was obvious. "Obviously, I'm patching your wounds and—" He started to say.

"I meant what are you doing back here, with them?" Arya rephrased, gesturing to the other men. "After they sold you to that red woman for two bags of gold, you went back here? Why?" She asked.

Gendry was silent for a moment, then he sighed. "Because I didn't know where else to go." He said, still wrapping the bandage. "If I go back to King's Landing, the gold cloaks will be looking for me."

"Why do you think they're looking for you?" Arya asked.

Gendry looked down. "I don't know." He said.

Arya raised an eyebrow. With all those moons training with the Faceless Men in the House of Black and White, she could actually tell if a person is lying or not. And Gendry is definitely lying.

"Come on," Arya pressed. "You don't have to lie about it."

"Arya, it's just—" He started to say.

"You ought to keep it a secret, then?" Arya interrupted.

"You could get killed." Gendry insisted.

Arya made a face. She had escaped the Red Keep and King's Landing, had pass off as a boy and a new recruit for the Night's Watch, been a cupbearer to Tywin Lannister at Harrenhal, trained with the Faceless men in Braavos and survive several kill attempts from the waif and other people. She was not afraid of being killed just because of some secret information.

Arya shrugged. "It's the same way when I told you I was Arya Stark of Winterfell." She said. "You would've been killed. But I told you anyway, because I trusted you. Don't you trust me?" She asked.

"I do," Gendry said. "But…" He faltered as he secured the ends of bandage and pulled down her shirt.

She decided not to press him. Whatever that red woman told him about the gold cloaks, he was clearly traumatized and would not want to talk about it. The same way Arya would not want to talk about her father because it just reminded her of the time he was executed and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

After a few moments of silence, Arya spoke up. "You can come with me to Winterfell." She offered. "What's left for you here, anyway?"

Gendry faced her. "What's going to happen to me there?" He asked.

"You're a smith and you can fight." Arya pointed out. "Your skills will be more useful there than it will be here."

It took a moment before Gendry replied. "That's kind offer, Arya." He said. "But—"

"Just please, think about it." She insisted. "But I'll be really glad if you'd come."

Gendry took a canteen of water and poured a few drops of milk of the poppy in it. He handed it to her and Arya's eyes widened.

"Don't worry," He assured. "It will help ease the pain. And help you sleep."

Arya reluctantly took the canteen and took a sip. Gendry gently laid her on the mat and she began drifting into unconsciousness.

. . .

A few minutes after Arya had fallen asleep, Gendry found himself staring at her. Which he found strange, since he'd been travelling with Arya for awhile and he'd never looked at her before that way he'd looked at her now.

She'd grown into a rather pretty young woman, he had to admit. She still had a pale complexion as women from the North do. Her dark hair had grown longer, and now went down to her shoulders. _You could never mistake her for a boy now, that's for sure._ Gendry thought.

Gendry reached out his hand and brushed part of her hair out of her face and pushed it behind her ear. He stared at her again for a moment before standing up.

Arya's words came ringing back to him. _You can come with me to Winterfell._ She had said. _I'll be really glad if you'd come._

When Hot Pie, their other travel companion, had decided to stay and be the cook in the Inn at the Crossroads. Arya looked like she was about to cry, and it had been him who comforted her about it. It had seemed bearable, that Hot Pie had to stay and they had to go on.

Gendry remembered the look on her face he told her that he had decided to stay with the Brotherhood. _Pained._ He had abandoned her when she needed him most, and that was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

He felt like he owed Arya that much, and decided to make amends for it. So, he walked over to where Ser Beric Dondarrion, Thoros and the Hound who were sitting near the fire pit.

"Lord Beric," Gendry addressed. "I—"

"Gendry," Beric interrupted. "Were the princess' wounds treated?" He asked. "Is she asleep?"

"Yes, my Lord." Gendry said, rubbing his arm. "I, uh…I wanted a word with you."

Beric straightened. "What is it, boy?" He asked.

"I...I wish to go with the princess to Winterfell." Gendry blurted out.

Thoros and the Hound exchanged looks, like they were expecting it.

"And why is that, boy?" The Hound asked.

Before Gendry could say anything, Thoros interrupted. "Oh, I know." He said, taking a drink from his canteen of ale. "You're starting to have affections for her, aren't you?" He asked, laughing.

"What? No!" Gendry said in defense. "I don't—" He sighed, feeling himself blush at Thoros' comment. "I just want her to return home safe after all the dangers out there, and the pack of wolves roaming." He reminded them.

Beric considered it, he glanced at Thoros, who shrugged.

"I'll be back once she's home safe in Winterfell." Gendry promised.

"And if the King offers you to stay in his service, would you?" Beric asked.

"Only if you'd allow it." Gendry said.

Beric stood and held Gendry by his shoulders. "You should learn to make your own decisions, boy rather wait for an order. If you wish to stay at Winterfell, that's your choice. We can't stop you. You're of noble blood—"

"I'm a bastard." He reminded him.

"A bastard of the great house in the Stormlands." Beric pointed out.

"Wait," The Hound spoke up. "You're saying this boy's a _Baratheon_?" He asked in astonishment.

Thoros nodded. "Robert's bastard, yes."

"That makes this boy a prince." The Hound said, pointing at Gendry. "And you're ordering him around? He should be wielding a sword rather than forging one."

Beric faced the Hound. "We taught the _prince_ sword fighting. He's already good." He explained. "But he's better with a battle axe, like his father."

"I'm no prince," Gendry corrected. "I'm a bastard."

The Hound snorted and faced Gendry. "Now, you're starting to sound like the princess." He said, gesturing to Arya, who was sleeping soundly farther from them. "Savages who refuse to be called by their titles. You're perfect for each other."

Gendry felt himself flush. But thanks to the light and the heat of the fire, they probably didn't notice.

Beric turned to Gendry. "You should get some sleep, Gendry." Beric said. "You'll be needing your strength for the long journey."


	3. The Tales of the Wolves

_Arya was a wolf again._ In her dreams, she was always a wolf. The night wolf, she called herself. Her dreams were always red and savage. But this time, it was a little less. She stood behind a tree of a dark forest staring at something or someone farther. A prey, perhaps and snow was starting to fall.

 _Wait,_ _snow?_ Arya thought. She remembered the Stark words and what her father used to say, _Winter is coming._ Perhaps, winter _is_ here.

But the snow never bothered her. As a wolf, her pelt was thick enough to withstand the cold. Out in the open, she saw a deer grazing peacefully. She followed it, keeping out of its sight. _Food_ , she thought. She could actually hear her stomach grumbling. Finding the perfect timing, she snuck up behind it and pounced. Just as the she made the kill, the other wolves, her little cousins, came forward and started chewing on the deer's meat with her.

After a few minutes, the wolves parted and the deer was of nothing but its bones and antlers lying on the snowy ground.

. . .

Arya woke to Gendry shaking her.

"Arya?" He said, clutching her arm. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah," She assured, catching her breath as she sat up. "Just had a dream." She wiped the sweat out of her forehead.

"I brought you something to eat." Gendry said, handing her a platter of chicken. "The Hound had these cooked. For you especially, he said."

Arya snorted. "Of course," She said as she grabbed one and ate. "He killed for some chickens once. It's probably his favorite." How the Brotherhood got some chickens, she didn't know. But she's not complaining.

"So," Gendry said, as he sat and ate beside her. "What's going to happen when we get to Winterfell?" He asked.

Arya stopped eating and stared at him. "We?"

Gendry shrugged. "I thought you wanted me to come with you."

Her face brightened. "So you're coming?" She asked.

He nodded, taking a bite from his chicken. "Lord Beric said I could."

Arya's smile disappeared. "Lord Beric said?" She repeated. "So, you're still following an order." She sighed. "When are you going to start making decisions for yourself?"

"I am." He said sternly. "I came back to the Brotherhood because I wanted to. Now, I'm leaving it because I want to go to Winterfell with you."

"So if you get bored," Arya brought up. "You'll leave Winterfell and walk away because you want to?"

Gendry snorted and shook his head. "You won't see that happening, my lady. I assure you."

Arya elbowed him. "Stop calling me that!" She frowned. "And why is that?"

Gendry was trying hard not to laugh. "Because no one else talks to me frankly more than you." He said.

She glared at him and punched him on his arm, but Gendry only laughed.

"That's still very unladylike." He commented.

Arya shoved him hard and he fell on his side to the dirt, almost spilling the platter of chicken in his hands. He laughed all the same, and held out his palm in surrender.

"Alright, sorry." Gendry said, standing up. "Get your things ready. We'll leave after you eat."

"But I don't have that many things." Arya said, as she stood, feeling better than she had been since last night. "Just my sword, my cloak and the horse. And I'm done eating."

Gendry smirked. "Lord Beric would want to see you before we leave." He said. "And the Hound too."

Arya put on her cloak and hung Needle to her belt.

Beric approached her. "Ready to go, little lady?" He asked.

Arya shrugged. "Might as well."

"Here." Beric handed her a pair of gloves. "You'll need this."

She frowned. "What for?"

"The cold." Beric said. "And it will get colder once you ride north."

Arya took the gloves, but still look confused.

"You Starks were right, you see." A voice said, behind her. She turned and saw The Hound came near. " _Winter is coming_." He said. "And now, it's here."

"It will be a long one, too." Beric agreed. "And dark things come with it. You take care, little lady." He said, then went off to talk to Gendry.

The hound handed her a sheathed dagger. "Take it." He said.

Arya raised an eyebrow at him, then at the dagger. "What's that?" She asked.

"You bloody hell know what it is." The Hound replied.

Arya took it. She realized it was the same dagger she used when she killed her first man, after they fled the massacre at the Twins. "Why are you giving it to me?" She asked.

"A sword is no good in close quarters fighting." The Hound said. "A knife is better. And it helped you once, pretty sure it'll help you again."

Arya smiled and wrapped her arms around the Hound, which surprised him. He patted her back in return.

"Thank you." She said. "You can come with us, if you want." She offered.

The Hound shook his head. "I'm done fighting other people's wars for them." He said. "You, on the other hand, need to go home. Now, off you go, princess."

Arya glared at him and put a hand on Needle's hilt. But before she can draw her sword, the Hound grabbed her wrist.

"What did I say about drawing that sword of yours, little lady?" The Hound asked, trying to make her remember. And of course, she remembered.

Arya took a deep breath. "Stop calling me 'princess'." She said, gritting her teeth.

"I might." The Hound said. "But I'm not the only one who knows about your title. People will be addressing you that when you get home. You'll have to get use to it, eventually."

Not far from them, Beric held both Gendry's shoulders. "Remember lad," She heard him say. "You're more than just Gendry Waters, you know that. Start acting like it."

Gendry nodded, gathered his stuff and started walking out the cave, where the horses were being saddled up. Arya fastened the dagger on her belt opposite to Needle, put on the gloves Beric gave her and then followed Gendry out.

 _Waters_. Arya thought. His last name is Waters. That makes him a bastard from the Crownlands. But why didn't he tell her that? _You could get killed,_ Gendry had said. Whatever the case, she's going to ask about it again, when they're alone.

Outside the cave, a thin layer of snow covered everything. _Winter_ is _here_. She confirmed. Arya and Gendry then climbed their horses and started riding north.

. . .

They rode in silence. Then for about half a mile later, Arya couldn't take it anymore.

"So," Arya spoke up, breaking the silence. "What did they mean by this pack of wolves roaming the Riverlands?" She asked as they travelled on horseback.

"Well, there _is_ a pack of wolves roaming," Gendry confirmed. "Which are vicious and prey on any meat. But they're usually active at night, so you have nothing to worry about." He assured.

"How can you be sure?" She asked.

"There were reports from nearby towns that travelers were disappearing at night. Few days later, their bodies were found disassembled and with bite marks." Gendry explained. "This caught the attention of the Brotherhood. They assume that there's some mad killer hiding in the darkness and attack when you least expect it. So, Lord Beric sent Harwin and five other men to investigate."

"And?"

"The following morning, only Harwin came back." Gendry continued. "He said it wasn't human. It was an animal. Animals, wolves to be exact. A whole pack of them."

"Probably might've been better if the pack found me first than the Brotherhood." Arya wondered.

Gendry blinked. "Uh, did I mention that they prey on meat?" He brought up again. "And are vicious and might _eat_ you. Especially since you were wounded."

"Yes, you have." Arya remembered. "But it couldn't be that hard. I had a direwolf once."

"So, it's true." Gendry said. "The Starks had wolves as pets?"

"They're not pets." She insisted. "My father said the direwolves were our protectors." She explained. "My direwolf, Nymeria attacked Joffrey when he threatened to gut me with his sword."

Gendry smirked. "Must be great to have one." He pointed out. "Anyways, word got to the villagers of the towns that it was actually a pack of wolves, the tales about it were…exaggerated."

"Tell me one tale about it, then." Arya said.

"Well, the famous one is that they said these wolves started roaming after…Robb Stark, the young wolf they called him, was murdered at the Twins." Gendry said, then he hesitated. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean—"

"It's fine." Arya lied. "Go on." Of course, hearing the massacre on the Twins was still painful. She had been so close, _so close_ to reuniting with her family and suddenly they were all murdered. The pain was like being stabbed in the gut multiple times, and she knew how that felt, literally.

Gendry continued. "They said that after his death, he warged himself into one of the wolves, and terrorized the Riverlands for killing him, his mother and his wife."

Arya frowned. _His wife?_ She thought. Then she remembered it was one of the reasons that killed Robb, because he had broken an agreement with the Freys and married a healer from Volantis. Arya didn't know her name and hadn't even known she had a sister by law until a few hours before she slit Walder Frey's throat.

After hearing Gendry's story, she snorted. "People actually believe that?" She asked. "Sounds like some tale to keep children from going out their homes after dark."

Gendry raised an eyebrow at her. "Lady Stark," He addressed. "You're very hard to please."

Arya would've hit him for calling her that, but they're on horseback and she couldn't reach him, so she just glared at him. "Robb was my brother." She said. "He wasn't a warg."

"They said the Starks _are_ wargs." Gendry said. "Is that true?" He asked.

Arya raised an eyebrow at him. "And where in seven hells did you hear that?"

Gendry shrugged. "You had direwolves, so you can warg into them."

Arya scoffed. " _I'm_ not a warg." She said. "Don't believe in everything you hear."

They continued their journey north on horseback. As it was getting dark, Gendry kept telling her to pick up the pace.

"And why?" She asked.

"It's getting dark." Gendry said. "They might be around here somewhere. You never know."

"You mean the wolves." Arya guessed. "Why are you so worried about—" She faltered. This part of the woods looked familiar, like she was here before.

Arya pulled the reigns and stopped. She got down from her horse and started walking towards a tree.

"Arya!" Gendry called. "What are you doing?"

Then she realized the tree was the one she hid behind in her dream, when she was the night wolf.

"This place looks familiar." Arya recalled. "I've been here before." She walked past the tree and retraced the steps she made when she was a wolf.

"Arya," Gendry called, dismounting from his horse and walked after her while pulling his and Arya's horse.

Arya gasped as she saw the remains of a deer. The same deer she had seen in her dream. She knelt at the remains and touched one of the antlers with her hand.

"Arya, what—?" Gendry yelped when he saw what she was holding.

She turned to him. "They were here," Arya said. "The Wolves."

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"I've seen it." Arya said again. "Last night, in my dreams."

Gendry sighed. "We need to hurry." He said. "We have to reach an Inn by dark or the wolves will find us."

Suddenly, there was distant growling and the horses were whining nervously.

"Arya," Gendry called alarmingly. "We need to leave, now."

Without warning, a lone wolf stood a few yards from them, which made both of them gasp. From its size, Arya could tell it's a direwolf with grey pelt, and its bright yellow eyes glowering coldly at them.


	4. Nymeria and the Wolf Pack

Seeing the direwolf, Arya had never been so happy _._ "Where in seven hells?" She said, smiling. "Nymeria!" She shouted.

The direwolf started to run towards her and leaped, knocking Arya down to the ground. Gendry reached out for his axe, preparing to strike but stop when he saw Arya laughed as the direwolf licked her cheeks.

Arya sat up. "Gods, where have you been?" She said as she stroke the direwolf's head. "I missed you, girl."

She stood and saw other wolves behind Nymeria, hundreds of them. She turned back to her direwolf. "You've made friends, I see."

The wolves gathered and started to surround them.

"Arya," Gendry called, clutching his axe tighter.

Nymeria barked once and the wolves put down their heads and whimpered softly, wagging their tails.

The wolves approached Arya and she smiled, patting their heads with her hands. Suddenly, she didn't believe what people had been saying about the wolf pack. They will seem deadly at first, but once you befriend them, they will protect you.

"So, this is the Wolf pack I've been hearing about?" Arya said, looking pointedly at Gendry. "They don't look that vicious to me."

"You don't know that." Gendry said, walking towards her. But Nymeria growled at him which made him halt.

"Nymeria," Arya called sternly. "He's my friend." She turned to him. "Hold out your hand."

Gendry's eyes widened. "What?" He shrieked.

Arya sighed in annoyance, approached him and pulled out his left arm, holding it by his wrist, and held his hand out for Nymeria.

When he realized what she was doing, Gendry yelped and pulled free from her grip. "What are you doing?" He demanded.

"Don't worry," Arya assured. "It's how she makes friends. Trust me, she's not going to chew off your fingers."

Gendry hesitated, then held out his hand for the direwolf.

Nymeria sniffed Gendry's knuckles and nuzzled it.

"Nymeria," Arya said. "This is Gendry."

Nymeria then wagged her tail and rubbed her head on Gendry's palms, which made him smile and he began caressing Nymeria's pelt.

Arya smiled, raising an eyebrow. "See? She likes you already." She said.

. . .

They decided to just stop for the night. Not in an Inn but just not far from where Nymeria had found them. Partly because staying in an Inn would raise awareness that another Stark is in the Riverlands, the very region in Westeros where her mother and brother were murdered with their bannermen; and because the wolves provide great help and security. And she was very glad that they found the wolf pack.

Gendry had tied their horses to a nearby tree and gathered wood for the fire. And surprisingly, the wolves did too. A couple of wolves disappeared into the night and came back with wooden branches between their teeth and piled them together to make the fire.

As night fell, Arya and Gendry sat by the fire to keep warm. Nymeria rested her head on Arya's lap and the direwolf let her stroke her hide. The other wolves huddled around the fire.

After moments of silence, Gendry spoke up. "You asked why the gold cloaks were looking for me." He said.

"I'd understand if you didn't want to tell me." Arya said, staring at the fire. "It's fine."

"No, I wanted to tell you," Gendry admitted. "I just don't know how. The people who knew were more surprised than I was when they found out.

Arya frowned at him and waited.

Gendry took a deep breath. "I'm a bastard." He said.

Arya didn't look surprised. "I know." She shrugged. "Your last name is _Waters_. That means you're a bastard from the Crownlands."

Gendry hesitated, then continued. "The bastard of Robert of the House Baratheon." He blurted out.

Arya stared at him with wide eyes. _Seven hells_. "You're King Robert's son?" She said in awe. "You're highborn…and a prince—" She faltered.

"I'm a bastard." Gendry insisted.

"A royal bastard." She corrected. "I should be calling you _my Lord_ or—"

"Stop it." He scoffed. "I have no claim to whatever my father had left behind and I don't want any part of it either."

"My brother Jon is a bastard." Arya brought up. "Now, he's King in the North."

"That's different." Gendry said. "Your father raised him alongside his lawful children. And he was legitimized." He picked up his axe and started polishing it.

"Just because you don't have the name, doesn't mean you don't have the blood." She reminded him. "You're his son. Nothing can change that."

"Just promise me you won't tell anyone." He urged.

She shrugged. "Why not?"

Gendry sighed. "I can't have people pushing me to the front lines just because I'm Robert Baratheon's son. I just wanted to live in peace, away from wars." He put down his axe. "It's one of the reasons why I wanted to leave the Brotherhood. Lord Beric seemed to be doing all that."

Arya frowned. "I thought Ned Dayne was his squire."

"Edric Dayne is the heir to Starfall in Dorne." Gendry explained. "He can't stay with the Brotherhood." He scooted closer to her. "Arya, please, no one can know." He pleaded.

Arya smiled at him and nodded. "I trusted you with my secret once, you can trust me with yours, _my Lord_."

Gendry knitted his eyebrows at her, clearly he was annoyed and offended at the same time.

Arya laughed at his expression. "See? Now, you understand what it feels like being called something that doesn't sound right."

He sighed in annoyance. "Even if it doesn't sound right, _my Lady_ , I'd still be calling you that." Gendry said. "Because you don't like being called _princess_."

"I'll make you an agreement," Arya proposed. "You stop calling me _'my lady'_ , and I'll stop calling you _'my lord'_. How's that?" She asked.

Gendry made a face. "What am I supposed to call you in front of your brother and your sister?"

" _Arya._ " She said. "Not _my lady_ , not _princess_ , just _Arya_."

"That doesn't sound proper." He complained.

"I don't care if it doesn't." She insisted.

Gendry stared in the flames and thought it through, then he turned to her. "Alright." He said. "You got yourself a deal."

Arya gave him a sideways smile. She held out her hand for a shake. Gendry took it and shook her hand as a part of their pact.

Arya gently patted Nymeria's head and the direwolf stood. "Now that it's settled." She said then snatched a piece of wood from the fire and stood.

"Where are you going?" Gendry asked.

"I'm going to look for more wood for the fire." She said, gesturing Nymeria to come with her.

Gendry clasped his axe as he stood. "At least let me come with you, you don't know what's out there." He said.

"There's nothing to worry about." Arya assured. "The wolves are our friends, they'll protect us. You stay here. And besides, Nymeria's coming with me. We'll be back."

At that point, they had a staring contest. But apparently, she had won because Gendry sighed and sat back down. "Just be careful."

Arya went out deeper in the woods with the torch in her hand. Nymeria and three other wolves followed after her.

. . .

Arya walked through the woods with the torch held out to light her way, Nymeria and her other wolf companions helped by occasionally handing wooden branches to her.

As Arya walked farther, she heard animals whining in the distance. She trotted towards the sound and found a fenced barn and shack in the middle of an open field. She figured the farmer who resided there was breeding either horses, mules, goats or all three in stock or to sell for the winter.

She was about to turn back with a handful of wood on her right arm, and holding the torch with her other hand, when Nymeria and the other wolves growled.

"Nymeria?" She turned to the direwolf. "What is it now?" She asked.

Her wolf companions barked facing the little farm. She followed the wolves' gaze.

A middle-aged man was standing by the fence with a torch in hand staring in their direction. She held the torch out to get a better look, which also illuminated her face.

That's when the man's eyes widened and jaws dropped in horror, like he had seen a ghost.

"Heel." Arya told the wolves and they stopped barking.

The man dropped his torch onto the snow and ran back to his home, like his life depended on it.

As Arya walked back to Gendry and the rest of the wolf pack, she thought about the man in the farm. She understood very well why the man ran. People didn't leave their homes after dark, especially in the Riverlands, where wolves were roaming. The man has seen her, a young girl with wolves, wandering in the woods at night. If she was in his shoes, she'd run that fast too.

But Arya figured that that encounter will probably be another exaggerated tale she will hear about when they travel farther north.


	5. Wargs

In her dreams, she was once again, the night wolf. It was probably about daybreak. She was sniffing the ground and came across Gendry, packing up the makeshift mat that he had slept on.

 _Gendry?_ She thought. _What is he doing?_ Then Gendry grabbed a piece of wood and the poke the dying fire with to extinguish it.

The night wolf approached him and Gendry nearly jumped at the sight of her.

"Seven hells, wolf!" He yelped. "You scared the living daylights out of me." He sighed and knelt, gently stroking her pelt. "I assume you're hungry, huh?" He asked. "Well, if we move now, we should reach the Inn at the Crossroads a few hours before midday. But if that's going to happen, you need to wake Arya first."

Gendry gestured to his right and surprisingly saw herself sleeping by the extinguished fire.

The Night wolf obliged. She came closer to a sleeping Arya.

. . .

Arya woke and yelped when she found a pair of yellow eyes staring down at her.

"Nymeria." She said, catching her breath as she patted the direwolf's hide.

"Well, finally." Gendry said, hooking the sleeping mat onto his horse. "Good job, Nymeria." He turned to her. "Have a nice sleep?" He asked.

Arya didn't answer. She found it strange that Gendry was talking to the Night wolf in her dreams, telling her to wake her up. The wolf approached the sleeping Arya. And sure enough, when she woke up, Nymeria's yellow eyes were staring down at her.

Every night, her dreams were almost the same. She walked, ran, sniffed the dirt, tasted blood in her mouth whenever she'd made a fresh kill, and howled. But she wasn't Arya Stark, she was the _Night Wolf_. She remembered had Old Nan told her and her siblings stories about people who can enter the minds of animals and control their movements. _Wargs_ , they were called.

 _They said the Starks are wargs_. Gendry had said. _You had direwolves, so you can warg into them._ When Arya first heard it, she nearly laughed and looked at him like he was mad. Now, it made sense, but she wasn't sure whether she believed it or not. She did know one thing now though, _Nymeria is the Night Wolf_.

"Arya?" Gendry strutted toward her. He knelt next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Were you having a bad dream again?" He asked.

Arya shook her head. "I…I don't know." She admitted as stood, putting on her cloak. "And you won't believe it."

She packed up the makeshift mat and walked to her horse. "We should hurry then if we're to reach the Inn at the Crossroads before midday." She said.

Gendry gave her a confused look. "How did you—?"

"You told Nymeria to wake me so we could move, right?" She recalled as she adjusted the saddle of her horse. "And you're right, we should. The winds are getter colder."

Gendry stood and stopped her from adjusting the saddle. "You were already awake."

"I wasn't." Arya said. "I was asleep. You saw me. Then you told the direwolf to wake me." She turned to Nymeria still standing by the stamped out fire. "Nymeria, tell the pack we're leaving."

The direwolf stared at her for a moment then left for the other wolves.

Arya watched Nymeria leave. "Funny, because she usually won't listen." She said.

"Arya, don't change the subject." Gendry said. "You said you were asleep. How did you know I told Nymeria to wake you?" He asked.

"I don't know. Like I said, I can't explain it." Arya said again. "Even _I_ don't understand how or what is happening." She continued adjusting her saddle.

Suddenly, they heard Nymeria bark a few yards from them. The direwolf came back with the whole wolf pack behind her. Both Arya and Gendry's eyes widened when they saw there were more wolves than they can count.

"I didn't know they were that many wolves in the pack." Gendry admitted, keeping his eyes on the wolves.

"You said there were hundreds." Arya remembered.

"That's what Harwin assumed." He said. "But I didn't actually believe that."

"And now you do." She said, mounting her horse. "We should get going. You wouldn't want people to see them and scream their lungs out."

Gendry nodded, climbing up his horse. "And we should avoid the Kingsroad too." He suggested.

"I agree." She said.

They rode on with the wolves rallying behind them.

. . .

Riding towards the crossroads, Arya kept thinking about the dream she had. _Or was it a dream?_ She thought. She didn't know and she didn't understand it either.

"You've been quiet." Gendry spoke up, which almost made her jump. "That's a first. You're never quiet."

Arya was so deep in thought that she hadn't notice Gendry had ride beside her.

"Clearly, something's bothering you, my lady." Gendry teased.

She glared at him. "You calling me _my lady_ is one of them."

"Come on," He persuaded. "I thought you said you trust me."

"I do." She insisted. "It's just that I don't understand it."

"Don't understand what?" Gendry asked.

"These dreams I'm having." Arya said. "Well, I don't know if it's actually a dream because it seemed…real."

"What do you mean?"

"My dreams are different." She persisted. "But somehow the ones I've had recently were more vivid. I started having vivid dreams since we escaped Harrenhal, before the Brotherhood took us in. And they sent hounds after us."

"What?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I remember commoners mentioning dissembled bodies leagues from Harrenhal." He recalled. "But how did you know that?"

"I told you. I saw it in my dreams." She explained. "But I…I wasn't myself in it. I was a wolf. There were also other wolves following me. And we attacked them. Then there's this other time when I found my mother's body floating in a river, and that wolf dragged her out to the banks and—"

Arya paused when she noticed Gendry's eyes widened. "What?" She asked.

Gendry shook his head and looked away. "Nothing." He said, obviously evading the question. "I'm sorry."

"What is it?" Arya asked again. "You wouldn't just look surprised like that if it was nothing."

Gendry took a deep breath before speaking. "Your mother, Lady Catelyn." He said. "Lord Beric said they found her body on the banks of the Green Fork, three days after the massacre at the Twins. And they gave her a proper funeral."

Arya never answered. She could now loosen up a bit, knowing that her mother was given proper funeral rights by the Brotherhood.

"I'm sorry for bringing that up." Gendry apologized. "I know it's still—"

"No," She interrupted. "Thank you for telling me."

. . .

A few hours later, Gendry dismounted his horse. He walked toward a bush and looked out in the open. "We're here." He said. "The Inn at the Crossroads."

Arya dismounted and knelt down at Nymeria's eye level. "Stay here, girl." She told the direwolf. "We'll be back, with food for the entire pack, hopefully." Arya promised.

With that, Nymeria nuzzled Arya's cheek as if to say, _I'd like that_.

Arya patted Nymeria's head before she and Gendry started to pull their horses towards the Inn at the Crossroads.

While tying up the horses, Gendry was giving a few men that passed them with a suspicious look.

"What is it?" Arya asked.

"Pull up your hood." Gendry said.

"What?" Arya asked. "Why? People think I'm dead anyway. No one would recognize me."

"We can't be sure." He said, still looking around suspiciously. "Just pull it up and follow me."

Arya pulled up the hood of her cloak over her head to cover her face and followed Gendry into the Inn. Thankfully, no one gave them a second glance, which she thought was a good thing, until they sat down.

 _"_ _Gendry?"_ Someone called. "Is that you?" Somehow, the voice was familiar. Like, she should know who it belonged to.

"Gendry!" A fat boy came near their table and shook hands with Gendry as Arya pulled the hood of her cloak down lower to cover her face.

"It's great to see you again, old friend." The fat young man said.

"Great to see you too." Gendry said.

Then the fat boy turned to her direction. "Who's this?" He asked. "Your lady love?" He guessed.

Arya tilted her head up slightly enough to see Gendry's burning red face.

"What? No!" Gendry protested. "She's not my—" He took a deep breath and turned his eyes on Arya. "It's alright." He assured. "It's Hot Pie. You can hit him yourself."

 _Hot Pie?_ The baker's apprentice from Flea Bottom. Well, that explains why his voice was familiar and why he sounded rather annoying. Arya looked up and faced him.

Hot Pie's eyes went wide and took a step back. Then pointed a shaking finger at her and opened his mouth to speak. "Ah—"

"Please," Arya interrupted. "Don't say my name out loud." She whispered.

Hot Pie's mouth still hung open, deciding whether to talk or not. " _Arry!"_ He managed. He crept closer to her. "Is that really you?"

Arya raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a sly smile.

Hot Pie smiled, then he hugged her, much to her surprise. "You're alive!" He said in delight.

"Of course, I'm alive." Arya said, turning to Gendry who was snickering at them. "Wouldn't be here if I wasn't." She pushed Hot Pie away.

"I never knew you were this affectionate." Gendry noted.

Hot Pie grabbed a stool from the other table and sat with them. "I thought you were also killed at the Red Wedding." He told Arya. "With your mother and brother."

"That's what I thought so too." Gendry said.

"So, what are you doing here?" Hot Pie asked.

Gendry answered for her. "I'm taking Arya home to Winterfell. And we stopped here for a meal."

"Oh, a meal, eh?" Hot Pie said. "I'm gonna cook something for the both of you. I'll be right back." He stood and left for the kitchens.

"He never changed." Arya remarked. "Except, maybe he got taller."


	6. The Inn at the Crossroads

While waiting for the meal Hot Pie prepared for them, Gendry kept glancing around them. His frown made Arya uneasy.

"What is it now?" She asked

Gendry faced her. "You were seen last night, weren't you?"

Arya tried to keep a straight face. "What are you talking about?"

"While you were searching for firewood," Gendry said. "I think somebody saw you. Probably because you brought a torch."

"How will I _even_ see where I'm going without the torch lighting my way, you stupid bull." Arya said.

"Did somebody saw you?" Gendry asked again. "Because according to the rumors that I'm hearing right now, you fit the description."

"The description of what?"

"Try listening to what these people are talking about." Gendry urged.

Arya observed and reluctantly listened to her surroundings.

 _"—_ _swear what I'm telling you is true!"_ The bearded man on the table next to them said. _"Rymund was never the same. Says he saw the wolf pack last night."_

 _"_ _What?"_ The bald man across him said. _"No one has ever seen the wolf pack unless you are to be their next victim."_

 _"_ _He saw it."_ The bearded man insisted. _"There are probably about a hundred wolves in the pack. But he saw something else. A young maiden was leading the pack. Then he literally froze up when she turned to face him."_

 _"_ _What did he do then?"_ His companion asked as he drank from his tankard.

 _"_ _He ran back into the house and kept saying he saw Lyanna Stark."_

 _"_ _Lyanna Stark?"_ The bald man asked like he'd misheard. _"Ned Stark's long dead sister?"_

 _"_ _He said the girl he saw with the wolves looked exactly like her."_

 _"_ _Lyanna Stark is dead. Everyone knows that. That young maiden got herself kidnapped by that Targaryen prince. And for whatever reason, she died."_

 _"_ _No, he's claiming that it's her ghost."_ The bearded man insisted. _"Ever wonder why the wolves_ only _roamed the Riverlands and not its neighboring regions?"_ He asked.

The bald man looked up from his drink. _"Why?"_

 _"_ _Says because Robb Stark and his mother were murdered at the Twins." The_ bearded man explained. _"Lyanna's ghost is probably out for blood for killing her nephew, her sister by law, and Stark bannermen. And you've heard what happened to Walder Frey?"_

 _"_ _Aye,"_ The bald man replied. _"He was killed and his body was found in their great hall with a slit on his throat."_ He guessed.

The beared man nodded. _"And on the floor next to him, written in his blood were the words: 'The North remembers'. Means it was a northerner who killed him. Or Lyanna's ghost."_

Arya snickered. As she expected, she would hear an exaggerated tale about that encounter in the woods last night. And how they connected it to the murder of Walder Frey, she was impressed.

She faced Gendry, who was staring at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Well?" Gendry said. "Do you have anything to say about it?" He asked.

"It's ridiculous." Arya said.

Gendry narrowed his eyes at her.

Arya sighed. "Alright, fine." She said. Then went on explaining seeing a little farm and a man saw her with the wolves, and how he ran in horror.

"Well, of course, he ran." Gendry pointed out. "Who wouldn't be frightened to see a young woman accompanied by wolves, wandering in the woods at night? Someone _did_ saw you. You're bloody lucky you weren't recognized." He scolded.

"Oh, I _was_ recognized." Arya corrected. "But apparently, he thought I was my dead aunt's ghost."

Gendry drank from his tankard while Arya continued to listen.

 _"_ _The Freys are doing a terrible job at running the Riverlands."_ The beared man said. _"Winter has come. Winds are growing colder and colder everyday. It was far different when the Tullys ruled."_

 _"_ _Aye,"_ The bald man agreed. _"They should probably make use of Edmure Tully these days, rather than locking him up in dungeons beneath the Twins. He would know what to do."_

Arya blinked. The Tullys aren't completely gone. Her uncle Edmure, her mother's younger brother, is still alive, but a prisoner at the Twins. She couldn't help but smile. If they want the Riverlands to survive the winter, Edmure Tully is the best hope they have. _But how am I going to get him out?_ She thought.

 _"_ _The Mallisters of Seagard and the Blackwoods of Raventree Hall have tried to do something."_ The bearded man said. _"And what happened? The Lords of those holdfasts were made prisoners in their own home. The Brotherhood is rallying commoners to their cause, but it ain't enough. Someone with Tully blood has to rally the other loyal bannermen."_

 _"_ _The Tullys are gone."_ The bald man said. _"The Blackfish is dead and Riverrun now belongs to Emmon Frey while the Twins is headed by Stevron Frey."_

 _"_ _What of the Starks in the North?"_ The bearded man brought up. _"They have Tully blood. Hopefully, they'll do something about it."_

Arya couldn't believe it. The Riverlands are in chaos when the Freys took over. And Jon and Sansa were probably still altering changes in the North after they took it from the Boltons because they haven't done anything. _I have Tully blood,_ Arya thought. _Maybe I can do something while I'm still here in the Riverlands._

. . .

Hot Pie came back with two plates of kidney pie in his hands. "Hope you like 'em." He said. "It's specially made."

As Arya and Gendry ate, Hot Pie sat with them. They exchanged stories about where they've been in the past three years.

Just as they were finished eating, a tall woman in armor and a young lad walked into the Inn.

Arya cursed silently. The woman in armor had short, dirty blond hair. _Brienne of Tarth_ , she recalled. And the young lad who came with her, Podrick Payne, was probably a squire, seeing that he carried most of their stuff. She remembered them very well on their encounter ten miles from the Bloody Gate in the Vale.

Arya gripped Hot Pie's sleeve. "Hot Pie, is there another way out of this Inn?" She asked.

Hot Pie nodded. "Yeah. In the kitchen, why?" He asked.

"Good." Arya said. "We'll escape there."

"Escape?" Gendry asked. "Why?"

Arya grunted. "See that woman?" She pointed to the woman in armor. "The last time I met her, she tried to take me with her by force. And almost killed the Hound in the process."

Gendry blinked. "Wait, that's a woman?"

"Oh, I remember her." Hot Pie said.

Arya turned to him. "You've met her before?" She asked.

"I've served them kidney pie the last time she was here." Hot Pie explained. "She was looking for your sister, Sansa."

"What did you tell her?" Arya asked.

"I told her I don't know a Sansa Stark, but I do know Arya Stark."

Arya glared at him. "So it was you who told her where I was."

"I didn't even know where you went when you left with the Brotherhood." Hot Pie admitted.

She sighed. "Just please, show us the way out." Arya pleaded.

Hot Pie stood. "Alright, this way." He gestured for them to follow him.

Arya pulled the hood of her cloak lower to cover her face as she stood. Gendry made her go first, since she has the recognized face, then he followed.

Brienne and Podrick came to sit at their table.

"Boy," Brienne called. "We'd like two kidney pies, please." She said.

"Of course, milady." Hot Pie answered. He walked past her and Gendry and turned to them. "Come on."

. . .

Hot Pie led them to the kitchens. The fire in the oven was burning. Piles of meat and sacks of herbs, spices, fruits and vegetables were placed on the central table.

"That was close." Hot Pie said, putting an oven mitten on both his hands.

Arya remembered what she promised Nymeria that they'd get her and the rest of the pack something to eat. "Um, Hot Pie," She called. "Can we…" She motioned her head to the pile of meat.

"Oh yeah, sure." He said. "With the Winter coming, you won't be able to hunt for meat travelling North."

Arya turned to Gendry, who immediately grabbed an empty sack and filled it with pieces of raw meat form the table. _Food for the Wolves,_ she thought.

"I baked you both something else." Hot Pie said, handing them each a loaf of bread fresh from the oven. "Something to eat for the road."

Arya's loaf was in a shape of a direwolf, like the last time Hot Pie gave her, only this time it's much more recognizable as a direwolf. Gendry's loaf was in a shape of a bull.

Arya and Gendry both smiled at him.

"You've outdone yourself this time, Hot Pie." Gendry said.

"Thank you, Hot Pie." Arya said, then wrapped him in a bear hug. "We'll see you soon."

Gendry slung the sack of raw meat over his shoulder, while Arya fixed her hood. And they both headed for the door.

"Oh, another thing," Hot Pie called.

Arya and Gendry both turned back to him.

Hot Pie frowned at them. "Are you two...you know." He asked, pointing a finger back and forth between them.

Arya and Gendry exchanged looks, then faced Hot Pie. "No." They both said at the same time.

Hot Pie eyed them suspiciously. "You sure?"

Arya must've been giving him a deathly glare because he nearly flinched.

"Oh, of course," Hot Pie said, sounding nervous. "Just checking. Have a safe journey."


	7. The Ghost of Lyanna Stark

_Arya and Gendry_ made their way out of the kitchens.

Snow was starting to fall out on the yard, where livestock were kept in roofed pens. Goats, cattle, sheep, chicken and a bunch of other animals Arya didn't recognized. _Even_ they _are getting ready for the winter_ , she thought.

They walked silently toward the front of the Inn since it's where they tied the horses. Before they got there, they heard screaming, cheering, and the sound of swords clashing in battle, which Arya didn't understand.

Arya was about to run towards the sound of carnage, but Gendry grabbed her wrist.

"It's not safe." Gendry said. "The last thing you wanna happen is get recognize."

Instead of going to the horses, Arya and Gendry hid behind a bush peeping over the occurrence in front of the Inn.

Several men were pulling Brienne of Tarth and the squire, Podrick Payne who were tied in ropes and dragged out of the Inn. Then more men came out of the building. Men she recognized: Tom of Sevenstreams, the singer with the woodharp; Harwin, one of her father's household guards; Anguy, the archer and; Edric Dayne, the heir to Starfall in Dorne. In other words, more members of the Brotherhood.

Arya's eyes widened. "Is that the Brotherhood?" She asked Gendry. "How did they get here before we did?"

"The Brotherhood had scouting parties in almost each town." Gendry explained. "Tom O' Sevens and Anguy led the party from Saltpans, and Edric Dayne and Harwin near Lord Harroway's Town. They're probably here to regroup."

Arya frowned. "I thought you said he went back to Dorne."

Gendry scowled. "I don't know." He sighed in frustration. "Why don't you ask him that?"

Arya had always known that Gendry disliked Edric Dayne, but she didn't know why. She was going to ask him about that, but decided against it. They continued to observe behind the bushes.

 _"—_ _grace, King Jon will have your heads for this!"_ Brienne said.

Ned Dayne held out Brienne's sword from its sheath and examined it. "Valyrian steel." He said, then poked the pommel. "With a golden lion hilt."

 _"_ _Cut the crap,"_ Tom O'Sevens said, plucking on his woodharp. _"You work for the Lannisters."_

 _"_ _I don't work for the Lannisters."_ Brienne corrected. _"I'm in service to Lady Sansa Stark. The Lady of Winterfell and Princess in the North."_

Arya raised an eyebrow at the mention of her sister and brother.

Tom O' Sevens shook his head in disbelief. _"You ain't a northerner. Yet, you were seen travelling on foot with the Kingslayer from Riverrun during the War of Five Kings. Why is that?"_ He asked.

 _"_ _Lady Catelyn Stark commanded me to return the Kingslayer to the capital in exchange for the release of her daughters, Sansa and Arya Stark."_ Brienne explained.

At the mention of her name, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Gendry glancing at her. The men exchanged uncertain looks.

 _"_ _Is that why you're here in the Riverlands, then?"_ Harwin asked. _"To find the younger Stark girl?"_

 _"_ _I was sent by Lady Sansa to deliver a message to Brynden Tully to Riverrun."_

 _"_ _The Blackfish is dead."_ Harwin said. _"Doesn't matter anymore."_

Beside her, Gendry gripped her hand. "We need to get out of here, now." He said, pulling her to follow him.

But Arya remained watching.

"Arya," Gendry called.

Arya remembered getting away from Brienne after she defeated the Hound almost to death. She didn't know her true intentions, back then, which was to find her and Sansa and take them to safety, wherever safety was. Until now. Everything Brienne had just said were all true. And with her training in Braavos, she could always tell if people were lying, and Brienne isn't.

 _An honorable woman_ , Arya thought. She doesn't deserve to be tossed around by the Brotherhood.

Suddenly, Gendry pushed her to the dirt. "Get down!" He said, as an arrow flew past their heads and onto a tree trunk.

"What's lurking behind the bushes?" Anguy, the archer called out.

Gendry cursed. "Anguy, he could always tell." He put down the sack of raw meat and turned to her. "Stay here, I'll—"

"What?" Arya exclaimed. "Have you lost your mind? You can't—"

"Stay here." Gendry interrupted, gripping her shoulders. "Stay hidden and be quiet. I'll try to reason with these men."

Arya nodded reluctantly, then Gendry stepped out into the open. She crouched down and peeked out the bushes again.

The members of the Brotherhood had their weapons drawn.

"It's alright." Gendry said, loud enough for everyone to hear as he walked towards them. "It's just me." He held up his hands in surrender.

"Gendry?" Ned called, putting down his sword. "What are you doing here?" He asked. "I thought you were back in Hollow Hill."

"I should ask you the same, Lord Dayne." Gendry scowled.

Brienne frowned at Gendry. "My Lord?" She called.

Gendry glanced around him, then realized Brienne was talking to him. "Me? I'm no Lord, I'm a smith." He said.

"We're not playing games with you, boy." Tom spoke up. "What are you doing here?"

"It's…sort of a long story." Gendry said. "And you won't believe it."

Arya sighed in annoyance. Gendry's giving them ridiculous replies, which of course, draws out more suspicion. Without warning, she stepped out into the open and pushed down the hood of her cloak.

"Alright, boys," Arya spoke up walking towards them. "That's enough games. I've had it with this. Just release them already."

Gendry turned to her and his eyes widened. "What are you—" He started to say. "I told you to stay hidden."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Arya pointed out. "I'm saving you."

When the Brotherhood got a good look at her, they all gasped.

" _Lady Stark_." Harwin addressed loudly, then bowed.

Everyone turned their eyes at her. Even the people in the Inn peeked out to catch a glimpse of Arya.

" _Princess_ ," Brienne bowed, Podrick did the same.

"Arya?" Ned Dayne said, dumbfounded. He glanced at Gendry, then back at her. "What are you doing with him?" He asked.

"Gendry's taking me back to Winterfell." Arya said. "Now, do I have to repeat myself?" She motioned her head towards Brienne and Podrick. "Release them."

Tom O'Sevens pushed past Ned. "I'm afraid that's not going to happen, little lady." He said.

"Show some respect, harpstring." Brienne spoke up. "You're talking to a princess."

Tom O'Sevens turned to Brienne. "Aye, she might be." He said. "But this ain't the North."

"They've done you no harm, Tom." Gendry brought up. "Why capture them?" She asked.

"They are paid for by the Lannisters." Tom O'Sevens said. "That's why we can't release them."

"I already told you, we don't work for the Lannisters." Brienne explained. "I am in service to the Lady of Winterfell."

Ned was considering it, then turned to the singer with the woodharp. "Tom, cut their binds and—" He started to say.

"Oh, no!" Tom said. "Just because you're some Lord in Dorne and an anointed knight doesn't mean I have to follow everything you said, boy."

"Lord Beric made him the leader of your scout party." Harwin reminded Tom. "Of course, you had to follow what he says."

"Come now, Harwin." Tom said. "You knew he always had soft spot for girls." He gestured at Arya's direction. "Especially her."

"She's a princess." Ned reminded him. "She ordered for their release."

"Trust me, Tom." Gendry said. "Just release them."

"And you can all be on your way and forget this ever happened." Arya added.

"Really now?" Tom O'Sevens chuckled. "What are you going to about it, little lady?"

Arya smiled mischievously. "I'm glad you asked."

Right on cue, Nymeria emerged from the woods and ran towards them. The direwolf stood in front of Arya, growling with its sharp fangs flaunted.

Everyone else was surprised, only Arya and Gendry remained calm. Even the men from the Brotherhood forgot they had weapons.

"Nymeria, heel." Arya said calmly.

The direwolf barred its fangs and stopped growling. It went to stand beside Arya, and the wolf let her caress her hide.

"You—" Tom seemed at a loss for words. "That's a wolf…" He faltered.

Several wolves came out from the woods, about a dozen of them. They surrounded the men from the Brotherhood, growling and showing off their sharp fangs.

"Release them." Arya said again. "Unless you want these wolves to rip you apart. And I have to tell you, they hadn't eaten yet."

 _"_ _It's her!"_ Arya heard someone yell from inside the Inn. _"The ghost of Lyanna Stark! With the pack of wolves!"_

"So, it's true." Ned said, clearly trying hard to stand his ground from all the wolves surrounding them. "We've been hearing about a ghost leading the wolf pack."

Arya shrugged. "Do I look like I'm a ghost?" She said. "One night, you're just out in the woods and suddenly people percept that you're a ghost of your late aunt."

"I've seen your aunt, princess." Harwin pointed out. " _Lyanna Stark_. And you looked just like her."

Arya snorted. "So, I've been told. But I'm not Lyanna, I'm _Arya Stark_ , of Winterfell." Arya said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Now, release them."

Ned nodded at Harwin and he pulled a knife from his belt and cut Brienne and Podrick's restraints.

Arya turned to Tom O'Sevens, who was clearly terrified of the surrounding wolves. "I warned you." She said. "But you still made me do it."

"Forgive me, princess." Tom whimpered. "Please…don't feed me to the wolves."

"What? No." Arya said, frowning. "I'm not feeding you to the wolves. You really think I'm that heartless"

"Just don't go it again." Gendry advised.

"I won't." Tom promised. "You…you have my word, princess."

"One more thing, Tom," Arya said. "Don't call me _princess_." She glanced at Nymeria. The direwolf barked once and the other wolves went back to the woods.

. . .

The Brotherhood went inside the Inn to take refuge from what had just happened with the wolves, since she had just revealed herself as the alpha of the wolf pack. _The Ghost of Lyanna Stark_ , they called her. Arya snickered when she first heard it.

While Arya was untying the ropes of her horse, Brienne carefully approached her, aware that Nymeria stood beside her.

"Why did you save us?" She asked.

"You said you're in service to my sister, Sansa." Arya recalled. "Someone has to save you or they would've hanged you for carrying that sword."

"They can try." She said. "They haven't seen me fight."

"Anyone who could beat the Hound in a swordfight is a real protector." Arya said. "I'd follow you anywhere."

"Perhaps you'd follow me to Winterfell, then." Brienne said. "Lady Sansa said that I might run into you again. His grace, King Jon would be very happy to see you."

Arya smiled. "I haven't seen them in a long time." She admitted, then sighed. "But no, I won't be going home just yet."

Brienne's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?" She asked, as if she'd misheard. "Arya, didn't you hear what I just—"

"When you get to Winterfell," Arya interrupted. "Tell my brother and sister that I'm alive and well, and that I will be going home soon."

"Soon?" Brienne repeated. "What are you going to do?" She asked.

"The Riverlands will be in peril in the coming winter with the Freys ruling," She said. "And they have my uncle Edmure in the dungeons beneath the Twins."

"You're going to get him out?" Brienne guessed. "How are you going to do that?"

"I don't know." She admitted. "But from what I've heard, the Tullys still have few loyal bannermen."

"I'll come with you, then." Brienne offered.

Arya shook her head. "No, you and your squire need to return to Winterfell. Tell Jon and Sansa that you found me and that I'm doing something here in the Riverlands."

"Are you sure about this?" She asked.

Arya nodded. "I'm sure."

Brienne sighed, then nodded. "I'll do as you said, princess."

"Don't call me _princess_." Arya corrected, then smiled. "Safe travels."


	8. Beyond the Wall

_"_ _Promise me Ned. Promise me . . ."_

Bran couldn't get those words out of his head, even if he was back into his broken body in the bleak, cold wasteland. He gazed up at the Weirwood tree's red leaves gently fluttering above him in the winter breeze.

"Bran?" Meera called as she knelt beside him, her face expressed with concern as she took his hands in hers. "Are you alright?"

For a moment, Bran couldn't do anything but focus on how good her hands felt in his as she rubbed warmth into his cold, stiff fingers.

"I'm fine, Meera." He assured.

Meera helped him sit up with his back propped up against the Weirwood.

"What happened?" She asked. "What did you see?"

Bran hesitated. Meera was always concerned for his wellbeing despite his mistakes and useless legs. For that, Bran would be forever grateful to her. She's all he's had now, with Hodor, Jojen, and his direwolf, Summer gone. He realized that he couldn't hide anything from her.

"I saw…" Bran started to say, then everything he had witnessed in the Tower of Joy came back to him. The death of the legendary Ser Arthur Dayne at the hands of Meera's father, Howland Reed and his father, Eddard Stark; his father's sister, his aunt Lyanna dying on a bed of blood; her infant son, who Bran now knew to be his cousin, Jon Snow; and the promise she made his father swear to keep his identity a secret to protect the boy from the wrath of Robert Baratheon.

"What?" Meera asked anxiously. "You saw what?"

"I saw our fathers and my aunt on the day she died." Bran blurted out.

"Lyanna Stark?" Meera guessed. "My own father never even spoke of what happened that day. But of course, Jojen saw that."

Bran remembered Jojen telling him that their father had never talked about Robert Baratheon's Rebellion and his part in it. "She died _giving birth to a son_ , Meera." Bran continued. " _Rhaegar Targaryen's_ son."

Meera grimaced at the information that he had just told her. "Prince Rhaegar's son?" She said in wonder, putting the pieces together. "What—then that would make him an heir to the Iron Throne! What did your father do with the boy?"

Bran was silent for a long time. "He…he kept him hidden and had him passed off as his own bastard son, my _brother_ , Jon Snow."

Meera's eyes widened in surprise. "Did your aunt say anything else?" She asked.

"No," Bran said. "She died before she could."

"You have to tell him." Meera said. "That he isn't a Snow, he's a Targaryen."

"By blood, yes." Bran agreed. "By name, I don't know. From what I've heard, Rhaegar Targaryen was married to Elia Martell before he kidnapped aunt Lyanna."

In retrospect, Bran realized that his father had publicly stained his own honor by "fathering" a bastard and raised him in Winterfell to protect his nephew from the rage and hatred of his friend, Robert Baratheon had for all the Targaryens for taking his beloved Lyanna away.

Bran thought about Jon's difficult relationship with his family, his mother in particular, how she treated him coldly. But despite all that, he got along well with his "half-siblings" or should he say, cousins. Except maybe Sansa, but he was particularly close to Robb, since they were about the same age, and for some reason, their sister, Arya.

"Nevertheless, you have to tell Jon the truth." Meera said. "He deserves to know."

Bran sighed. "I'm not sure if I can."

"Why not?"

Bran held up his right arm before her and pulled down his sleeve.

Meera gasped when she saw the hand shaped bruise that blotched his forearm. She reached out and touched it.

The icy mark of the Night King's grasp was fading and not as dark as it had been but it's still there.

"It's healing," Bran said grimly. "But I don't know if the mark he placed on me is gone or if it's sunk down into my skin." He sighed. "I can't risk the magic cast throughout the foundation of the Wall. The Bay of Seals is months away from here, and we don't have that long."

Meera met his eyes. "What are you saying?"

Bran looked away. "I'm saying you…you have to leave me behind Meera."

Meera shook her head. "No." She instantly replied.

"The Seven Kingdoms would be at risk if I cross the Wall." Bran explained. "You have to go on without me. Find Jon, tell him the truth about his lineage, your father will confirm it. Jon must be the one to lead us through the Long Night."

"No!" Meera exclaimed, gripping his arm. "Bran, you don't know what you're saying. You won't last a day without me to look after you."

"Meera, my life is not worth risking the lives of every man, woman and child! Enough people have died because of me already!"

Meera cupped his chin, forcing him to face her. "Bran, listen to me," She cried. "You heard what Jojen, your uncle Benjen and the Three-Eyed Raven all said, when the long night arrives, the Night King will come, and we all need you to face him."

"Meera, I—" Bran started to say.

"They all died getting you this far!" She reminded him. "I swore an oath, Jojen and I did, that we'll take you to the Three-Eyed Raven. Jojen died getting you in there, and Hodor died getting you out."

Bran looked down. "I never wanted anyone to die for me." He locked eyes with her. "I don't want _you_ to die for me."

Meera smirked. "I'd die for you any day, my prince."

That comment made Bran smile. _Sometimes she can be as stubborn as Arya,_ He thought. _They'd get along well, wherever his sister is, or if she's even still alive._

Seeing Meera smile warmed him down to his toes. Because secretly, he had an innocent little crush on her. Jojen had always known that, of course, but he promised not to tell.

. . .

Bran remembered the time when Jojen made him promise to always care for his sister when he told Bran secret information about his inevitable fate.

It was on their last stop, before travelling to the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven. Meera had gone hunting with Summer, while Jojen and Bran stayed behind with Hodor, who was sleeping soundly near the campfire.

"I…had a vision." Jojen spoke up, once they were alone. "I won't be around much longer so—"

"Won't be around?" Bran frowned. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Jojen was silent, he just locked eyes with him and Bran knew what he was talking about.

"What about Meera?" Bran asked, though he didn't want to know the answer.

Jojen scooted closer to the fire. "My sister,"

 _No, please._ Bran couldn't bear to hear. _If he's going to lose Jojen, he can't lose Meera too._ He thought.

"My sister will be fine." Jojen said calmly.

Bran sighed in relief, but he began to wonder. "Does she know about this?" He asked.

Jojen shook his head. "No," He said. "I'm sorry, Bran."

"What are you sorry for?" Bran asked. "Meera should know this." He added.

Jojen stared at the flames "She mustn't know."

"She deserves to know." Bran insisted, sternly. "She's your sister."

"I know what's best for her!" Jojen snapped, which completely surprised him, because Jojen never raised his voice. He sighed before continuing. "Trust me when I say I know what's good for my sister. Meera is a strong young woman, I'll never deny that. But even the toughest of people could break down over the loss of someone they love."

Bran knew he couldn't argue with Jojen there. Meera loved her little brother more than anything. "If you don't want her to know, then why bother telling me about this?" He asked.

"Because you're the only one I could trust with this task, Bran." Jojen replied.

"Task?" Bran then had an idea of what it's going to be and he almost laughed. "I can't even walk." He reminded Jojen.

"That won't matter." Jojen said. "I won't be around much longer. When the time comes, you need to be there for her. You need to be there for each other."

Bran nodded and promised.

. . .

"Bran?" Meera shook his arm, forcing him back to reality.

Bran was so deep in thoughts of Meera that he'd forgotten they're still in the bleak, cold wasteland beyond the Wall and the threat that came with the cold winter, even if it's just for a moment.

"You should get some sleep." Meera suggested. "You look tired."

"I looked tired?" He blinked. "You pulled the sled I'm on for…I don't know how long and—"

"Rest." She insisted. "You'll need it."

Before he knew it, Bran was dozing off as Meera sat nearby, making fire for warmth.


	9. Travelling on Winter

Bran woke up with Meera sleeping next to him, using his arm as a pillow, and with her arm wrapped around him. He had this strange feeling in his stomach at realizing how close she was to him. Hesitantly, Bran reciprocated, placing his hand around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head, listening to the sound of her steady breathing. Bran couldn't help but admire how good it felt to hold her even through the thick furs they were wearing.

He had slept peacefully, without interruption for the first time in weeks, and surprisingly no Greensight visions or dreams bothered him too.

Meera began to stir. She sat up and eyed his hand around her waist. "Uh, Bran…" She cleared her throat.

Bran quickly raised his hand in surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He could feel himself turning red in embarrassment. "Meera, I didn't mean—" He started to explain.

"It's fine." Meera interrupted, as she helped him sit up. "You hungry?" She grabbed the knapsack his uncle Benjen had given them and handed him a strip of dried rabbit meat.

"Well, I'm not saying no to this." Bran took the dried meat and started chewing on it.

They sat together under the Heart Tree as they chewed on some strips of dried rabbit meat and some pine nuts that Meera had managed to root up from the hard ground. It was not enough, but compared to what they'd been eating in the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven, it was a little better. It wasn't as tasty as the meals he had in Winterfell, of course, but at least they weren't starving to death, that was the important thing.

"You were right," Bran spoke up as he took a bite from his strip of dried rabbit meat.

"About what?" Meera asked as she nibbled on pine nuts.

"We should stay together." Bran said.

"Of course," Meera said. "Wherever you go, I go. Because you can't walk and you need me."

Bran smiled at that comment. "Yes," He said. "And we'll go south and take our chances."

Meera nodded in agreement. "Good," She said. "Because I'd hate to be the one to explain to the other Starks that why I let their brother die north of the Wall."

"The only problem is," Bran finished the last of his rabbit meat. "Castle Black's half a day's travel with a sled we don't have anymore." He said dejectedly. _Or Hodor to pull it_ , Bran thought, but he didn't say that out loud.

"We'll figure something out." Meera said.

Just then, Bran had a crazy idea. "Maybe I can find an animal to carry us both." He suggested. "I can warg into it."

"An animal large enough to carry you will be fine." Meera agreed. "Because I can't carry you for half a day."

With Meera's help, Bran got himself onto his front and faced the Weirwood tree. He rolled his shoulders and neck with a series of clicks and pops. "It may take time and I can make no promises" He said, somewhat unsure.

Bran realized that it would be his first time warging into another creature since Summer and Hodor died that night in the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven, when they were inches close of suffering a fate worse than death.

"Don't take too long." Meera said, squeezing his shoulder affectionately.

Bran closed his fingers over hers in response, and rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand in reassurance. They locked eyes for a moment as he nodded in wordless agreement before he reached out for the face on the tree and his eyes rolled up into his head as soon as his palm made contact with the Weirwood.

. . .

As Bran's body gradually went slack, Meera gently rolled him over onto his back and sat down next to him.

Looking over at Bran's still form, Meera remembered what her brother Jojen had said, that it's important to look after Bran's body whenever he was greenseeing or hunting in his direwolf, Summer.

She drew her dragonglass dagger from its sheath and studied it to pass the time. It had been given to her by Samwell Tarly of the Night's Watch when their party had crossed his path somewhere in the Gift. The black brother had told them of how he had found a stash of ancient dragonglass blades and arrowheads wrapped in a long buried Night's Watch cloak at a place called the Fist of the First Men and how he had used it to slay a White Walker.

Meera had seen that proof of that, when she threw a spear with dragonglass blade at a White Walker and it crumbled to pieces. And basically saved hers and Bran's lives.

Looking at Bran again, she remembered what her own father had told her about Ned Stark. Bran was definitely his father's son when it came to his demeanor. He was usually always so serious most days, despite his young age. He could be as grim and cold as any Stark of Winterfell before him. He was always trying to put it upon himself to take responsibility for his actions or for the wellbeing of others, especially his little brother Rickon's safety, wherever he is, and last night's misgivings over the Night King's mark on his arm.

"Stark stoicism." Meera muttered under her breath.

Suddenly, the frosty morning silence was broken by the sound of soft footsteps on the snow. Something was coming their way.

 _The dead don't rest_. Benjen Stark had said. If the White Walkers and Wights are coming for them, she had to be ready. The last time the dead came after them, she was unprepared. They lost Hodor trying to get away from a horde of undead in the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven. The gentle giant willingly sacrificed himself to buy time for Bran and Meera to escape. They would've been overrun, if it weren't for Bran's uncle.

Meera sprang to her feet and stood over Bran's unconscious form. She gripped her dragonglass dagger and scanned her surroundings.

A creature was walking quietly towards them. As it got closer, Meera can make out the shape of a direwolf. A light grey furred, almost white, direwolf a little bigger than Summer. She watched as the direwolf's bright yellow eyes stared _right at her_.

Meera hesistated. "Bran?" She called lifting up her hand to reach out and touch the direwolf's snout. The wolf gave a soft huff and nuzzled her palm.

She couldn't help but laugh in amazement.

"By the Old Gods Bran!" Meera squealed.

Bran somehow came back to his body. "What?" He asked.

"Nothing," Meera said. "I just…wasn't expecting a direwolf." She gently patted the direwolf's head. "As long as he can carry you, we'll reach Castle Black by midday, probably."

"What about you?" He asked.

"I'll walk beside you." Meera said, putting her dragonglass dagger back to its sheath. "Besides, I don't think our friend here can't carry both our weight." She approached him. "Now, come on."

Bran wrapped his arms around her neck, while she placed her hands on his waist and carried him. He probably had taken time befriending the direwolf because it bent down when she carried Bran to him. Meera placed Bran on the direwolf's back. She positioned him to be as stable as possible, the same way Benjen had him sit on his horse.

Meera grabbed her bow, quiver of arrows and the rest of their supplies. "Let's go." She said.

Bran stroke the direwolf's pelt. "Come now, _Winter_ ," He said, prodding the side of the direwolf gently with his foot as if riding a horse. "Let's head to Castle Black."

Meera frowned at him. " _Winter?"_ She repeated.

"That's the name I just gave him." Bran explained.

She chuckled. "Do you always name your animal companions after seasons?"

"No," He said. "I had a horse once, and he wasn't named after a season."

With that, the direwolf _Winter_ trekked forward out of the clearing and towards the Wall. Once they were on the move, Castle Black became closer. Already she could see that the trees were beginning to thin out as they drew ever closer to the Wall.

As they cleared past the foliages, it didn't take Meera long to spot the gate at the tunnel that led to Castle Black. She looked up at the top of the Wall, she could make out the silhouettes of mangonels, onagers and ballistae and the shapes of men in black cloaks rushing to their positions as they caught sight of them and the direwolf right up to the gate.

"Winter," Bran told the direwolf. "Stop."

The direwolf stopped a few yards away from the gate itself. The gates had parts that were damage, like they had just been in a recent battle against either the Wilding army or the White Walkers. Meera hoped it was only the first option.

"Halt!" A man's voice called from the other side of the gate. "Who approaches?" The man was hooded and all cloaked in black. He had a crossbow pointing at them.

"Wait, don't shoot!" Bran cried, raising one hand in the air, the other hand holding onto Winter's pelt. "I'm Brandon Stark of Winterfell. And this is Meera Reed of Greywater Watch."

"Highborns?" The man asked, raising his crossbow higher. "What are highborns like you doing north of the Wall?"

At that Winter the direwolf growled and barked at the man with the crossbow.

"Winter," Bran gently patted Winter's side to calm him down. "Calm down. They're not going to hurt us."

Winter started to pounce.

"Winter!" Meera screamed. She turned to the man with the crossbow. "Don't shoot!" She pleaded.

Halfway through the charge the direwolf suddenly stopped, and Bran slump onto Winter's hide. His eyes were glazing over white.

The man sucked his breath. "He's a warg?" He exclaimed. "Who _is_ this boy?" The man asked again.

"He's Brandon Stark of Winterfell," Meera repeated. "He's Jon Snow's brother."

The man lowered his crossbow. "My apologies, milady," He turned to the direwolf. "Milord, it's just that we've seen wargs among the Wildlings before but never among people from south of the Wall."

"Well, it's not the strangest thing we've seen these days." Meera said.

"On that we can agree, milady." The man said.

"We need to speak to Jon Snow." Meera insisted. "It's urgent. We know Samwell Tarly as well. He'll vouch for us."

The Ranger turned to the other men with him. "Open the gate!" He ordered, then turned back to her. "Come on in, milady. Every soul we allow past the Wall is one less body that'll be coming for us later and the Lord Commander will want to hear what you have to say."

With a grinding scrape of wood on ice and the rattle of well oiled chains, the gate slowly inched up to reveal the torch lit gloom of a tunnel.

They passed by the Rangers on watch, the light of the day was shut off when the heavy gate slammed back down. Meera's heart leapt in her chest when she saw light at the opposite end of the tunnel.

At long last, they were back in the Seven Kingdoms for better or worse.


	10. Castle Black (Part 1)

Once Bran, Meera and Winter passed through the tunnel and out into the central courtyard, all eyes were on them.

Bran had been warging into Winter, so he's seeing through the direwolf's eyes. He scanned their new surroundings.

The Ranger who had let them past the gate, went up the central stairway. His other Black brothers were busy doing stuff. There were some Wildlings too. He could tell they were Wildlings by their animal fur coats. And there were women and children as well. He didn't understand that. And that's something he'd have to ask the Lord Commander about. In any case, they all stopped doing whatever they're supposed to be doing and stared at him. Either at the direwolf, Winter, or his unconscious body and glazing white eyes. Or both.

Meera led him to a few benches on the courtyard. Bran went back to his body and Meera carried and sat him down on one of the benches.

"Thanks." Bran said.

Meera smiled, then caressed Winter's hide. "You should thank him," She said. "For carrying you all this way."

Bran patted the direwolf's head. "Thank you, boy." He turned to Meera. "Do we still have spare rabbit meat?" He asked.

Meera grabbed the last strips of dried rabbit meat from the knapsack and tossed it at Winter, who gnawed on it immediately.

The Ranger came back with a man who had different black cloak than the rest of the brothers. _He must be the Lord Commander_ , Bran thought. He was a lean man with shoulder length hair and a pointed nose.

Meera stood as the Lord Commander approached them.

"Welcome to Castle Black, Milord," He bowed at him, then at Meera. "Milady." He held his hand for a shake. "I'm Eddison Tollett, 999th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

Bran shook his hand. "I'm Brandon Stark of Winterfell," He introduced, gesturing at Meera. "This is Meera Reed of Greywater Watch."

Eddison Tollett's eyes widened. He glanced at Winter then back at them. He turned to the man beside him, who had been the one who let them passed the gate. "Why didn't you tell me the boy is Jon's brother?"

The Ranger's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, he's Jon Snow's brother?" He asked in disbelief.

Eddison sighed in annoyance. "He's a Stark," He explained. "Of course, he's Jon's brother." He turned back to Bran. "My apologies, Prince Brandon, when the rangers said they encountered highborns, I expected our black brothers from great houses, not a Prince in the North and the Lady of the Neck."

"Please, call me _Bran_." Bran insisted.

"Did you really set out beyond the Wall?" He asked

Bran nodded. "Yes, we did."

"What were you doing there?" He asked.

"It's a long story." Bran said.

"Well, what matters now is that you made it back, my prince." Eddison assured.

" _Bran_." Bran corrected. "Call me _Bran_." He insisted.

"I'm sorry, Bran." Eddison said. "You're safe now. Jon would be glad to hear you're alive."

 _Safe?_ Bran thought. _I doubt it._ He had basically put millions of lives at stake by simply crossing through the Wall.

"Where _is_ Jon Snow?" Meera spoke up.

The Lord Commander stared at them in surprise. "He's back at Winterfell."

Bran and Meera exchanged confused looks. _Back at Winterfell?_ Bran thought. _What would Jon be doing at Winterfell?_ From what knew, Winterfell was under Ironborn control, then it was sacked, so he and Rickon had to leave. Then in his visions, when his brother Robb was killed at a wedding, together with their mother and the North bannermen slaughtered all the same, Winterfell was left deserted. And Bran and his siblings have been scattered across the seven kingdoms, a long way from their home.

"But he's a sworn brother of the Night's Watch." Bran recalled. "Why would he leave?" He asked.

Eddison looked back and forth between them, as if they were playing with him. "You don't know?" When the Lord Commander saw their serious and confused expressions, he heaved a gloomy sigh. "How long have you been north of the Wall?" He asked.

Bran never answered. Obviously, there's a lot he doesn't know, even with his Greensight.

The Lord Commander seemed to understand. "A lot of things have change, Bran." He said. "And it seems we have a lot to talk about. Let's say, over a meal?"

"We would love that very much, Lord Commander." Meera agreed.

"Please, call me _Edd_ ," Eddison offered. He turned to the ranger behind him. "Rory, carry the prince to the common hall." He gestured for Meera to follow him. "Right this way, milady."

. . .

At the common hall, Bran and Meera ate a meal with the Lord Commander, Eddison Tollett. They have taken off their animal fur coats and are once again in their typical northern leather clothes.

Once in a while, Bran would toss a bone to Winter, and the direwolf would happily munch on it.

"Must be one thing to tell if you're a Stark," Edd said. "The direwolf."

Bran smiled at that thought. His direwolf, Summer was the one who grew up with him. He only met Winter recently. He befriended him earlier that morning, when they needed a ride. When Bran set the direwolf free, he stayed with them. And he was glad to adopt Winter as his direwolf companion/protector. Winter will never replaced Summer. But of course, Summer will always have a place in his heart.

"My father said they're our protectors." Bran said.

"They are indeed protectors." Edd agreed. "Ghost saved many lives when this castle was attacked."

"By the Wildling army?" Bran guessed.

"Well, that explains the dents and scorched marks on the gates." Meera said.

Edd nodded. "The battle was inevitable." He recalled. "We were outnumbered a thousand to one, until Jon took command."

"You haven't answered my question earlier," Bran remembered. "Why is Jon back at Winterfell?" He asked again.

Edd took a deep breath. "When your brother, King Robb was killed at the Twins, Roose Bolton was declared the new Warden of the North." He explained. "He moved to Winterfell and to have the North bannermen support his claim, one of your sisters was married to his legitimized bastard son, Ramsay."

The idea that one of his sisters be forced to marry someone alarmed him. Bran remembered Sansa, who couldn't wait to leave for King's Landing and be married to Prince Joffrey, while Arya just stared at her and thought it was stupid. And the time when a raven from Robb's camp when he was acting Lord of Winterfell, informing him about his brother's alliance with the Freys. To seal the alliance, Robb has to marry a Frey girl, and their sister Arya, a Frey boy. When he first read it, he almost laughed. _What? No_. He thought. Robb will probably do it for duty of course, but not Arya. _She wouldn't, she would never._

"I have two sisters." Bran brought up.

Edd pursed his lips. "Apologies, my prince." He said. "I can't remember her name. She was often addressed here only as _Lady Stark_. But she did have red hair."

Bran nodded. "Sansa." He guessed immediately. That's one surefire way to tell his sisters apart, by the color of their hair. Even though they looked nothing alike. "And then what happened?" He asked.

"Stannis Baratheon attempted to take Winterfell and was unsuccessful. Lady Sansa escaped and came here, to Jon." Edd continued. "She took refuge here. Until, they received a threat from Ramsay Bolton. He explained that the Umbers had sold your brother, Prince Rickon to him and threatened to feed him to hounds unless Lady Sansa is returned to Winterfell."

At the mention of Rickon, Bran covered his mouth with his hand and stared at his plate. _Why do innocents have to suffer?_ He thought. _Rickon's only a boy._ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Meera's concern expression.

"That was what convinced Jon to leave." Edd kept going. "He left with your sister to seek out and gather men to fight on their side, including Wildling army, to retake Winterfell. I don't know all the details, Bran, but they won. They retook Winterfell and he was hailed _King in the North_ by your bannermen. Days after that, they found out that he was actually legitimized by your brother, King Robb before he was killed at the Twins."

Hearing that his siblings had retaken their ancestral castle, he was overjoyed. There was one problem, of course, _Jon Snow_ is now _Jon Stark_. He shouldn't be, because he's supposed to be _Jon Targaryen_ , or whatever his real name is. Jon is not their brother, he's their cousin the whole time. _Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen's son._ The North bannermen was right to hail him as king, because he actually has claim. Not the King in the North, but the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Still, Bran was happy to hear good news. _Jon, Sansa and Rickon are at Winterfell._ He thought. _But where's Arya?_

"Have you heard any news about my other sister, Arya?" Bran asked.

Edd shook his head. "No," He said. "I'm sorry, my prince."

Bran nodded, then tossed another bone to Winter. "So, why are there Wildings south of the Wall?" He asked.

"Jon allowed them to cross when he was Lord Commander." Edd explained.

"It was wise of him to do so." Meera said. "With all those things lurking, they won't be safe on that side."

"Milady, I don't mean to frightened you, but—" Edd started to say.

"You don't have to hide anything, Edd," Bran said. "We've seen it. We've seen _them_. Meera fought a few." He gestured to Meera.

Edd stared at Meera. "How?" He asked in disbelief. "Those things can't be killed by customary forged steel."

"Not forged steel, no." Meera said. "It can't hurt them."

"How did you kill them?" Edd asked.

Meera turned to Bran, and he nodded encouragingly.

She pulled out her dragonglass dagger from its sheath and placed it on the table.

Edd's eyes widened in surprise. "Dragonglass." He said. "Where did you get this?" He asked.

"It was given to us," Bran answered. "By a brother of the Night's Watch, Samwell Tarly."

"But there aren't many of those," Bran said, pointing at the dragonglass dagger. "And the colder the winds, the closer they are."

"They're coming." Meera warned.

"We're very well aware of that, milady." Edd said, turning to Bran. "Suppose you Starks were right. Your words were a warning the whole time. _Winter is coming_."

"Now it's here. I can prove that." Bran said, then pulled down the sleeve of his right arm, once again showing off the icy shaped bruise on his forearm. "He touched me."

"Truthfully, I never expected to see you from that side." Edd admitted. "The last time a Stark went beyond the Wall, he never came back."

Meera and Bran exchanged glances.

"My uncle, Benjen Stark." Bran said. He was tempted to tell Edd that his uncle was still alive and even helped him and Meera from the pursuing Wights, but decided against it.

Edd nodded, then cleared his throat. "Nevertheless, I'll send word to your brother at Winterfell." He said. "I'll have men to escort you to—"

"No, Lord Commander." Bran interrupted. "That won't be necessary."

"My prince, It's not safe—" Edd started to say.

"It won't be safe anywhere for long." Bran said. "You're going to need all the men you have to defend the Wall. Lending us one horse will be enough."

"There's two of you." Edd brought up.

"I can't ride." Bran said. Unless they had the same saddle Tyrion Lannister had designed for him, then maybe.

Edd nodded in agreement. "We'll lend you one horse." He promised. "In the meantime, you're welcome to stay as guests."

"Thank you, Lord Commander." Bran said.

"I would've died many times if it weren't for Jon." Edd said. "If you're his brother, you're mine as well. I'd do anything to help you."


	11. Good News

Jon sat with both his elbows on the table, trying to listen to whatever his so-called small council and the lords and lady of their bannermen were saying.

Jon sat at one end of table. His sister Sansa sat on his right; beside her were Davos Seaworth and the Tormund Gianstbane. An empty seat next to Tormund was Maester Wolkan's, but he was busy organizing and tending to the ravens in the Maester's turret. To his left, were Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island; Wyman Manderly of White Harbor; Robett Glover of Deepwood Motte, and Cley Cerwyn of Castle Cerwyn. And for some reason, Yohn Royce of Runestone, one of the Knights in the Vale. Clearly, he was sort of a stand in for Littlefinger, the Lord Regent of the Vale, who had left and returned to the Eyrie to inform the people of the Vale of their alliance with the North.

Truthfully, Jon never wanted to be the King in the North. He had enough titles, and it even got him killed. He's a bastard and he shouldn't have claims to whatever his father had left behind. If anyone should be holding the north, it should be Sansa, since she's the last trueborn child of Ned and Catelyn Stark. That is, if Bran and Arya come back home, wherever they are.

But _no_ , the northerners rallied him ahead of Sansa, disregarding his bastard status. And Sansa herself was encouraging him. He'd never been close to her, unlike their other sister, Arya; and out of his five siblings, Sansa's the one he'd had less interaction with. But he figured that it's because he's the only brother she's had that's alive, unless Bran shows up, of course.

They've been through a lot. Their father lost his head in the capital. Their mother, _well, not his mother_ , was killed at the Twins, along with their eldest brother, Robb. Little Rickon lost his life trying to get to him from Ramsay Bolton. Bran, now a cripple, paralyzed from the waist down, went beyond the Wall. And according to his friend, Samwell Tarly, he went with Hodor, two other people and his direwolf. He had no idea where his sister Arya was, or whether she's still alive.

If he wasn't King in the North, he would've grabbed a horse and find his younger brother and sister and bring them home. _There aren't many of us left,_ Jon thought. _We need to stay together_.

Sansa snapped him back to reality.

"…Dreadfort, Karhold and Last Hearth to the Free Folk," Sansa said. "For their support of the King and for their own sustenance in—"

"Wait, what?" Jon asked as if he'd misheard. "You're giving Karhold and Last Hearth to the Free Folk?"

"And the Dreadfort," Sansa added. "But I'm merely suggesting that you do. They can't stay in the Gift for long with winter coming in."

"The Princess is right, Your Grace," Davos Seaworth agreed. "The Free Folk will need shelter with the winter coming."

"Winter is already here, Ser Davos." Jon said.

"That's why you need to shelter them." Sansa insisted. "They won't survive for long out there with the winds growing colder everyday."

"What you're saying is we force the Umbers and the Karstarks to leave their homes." Jon said. "I won't allow that."

The lords of their bannermen started talking at the same time.

"Your Grace, if I may," Lyanna Mormont spoke up. "What the Umbers and Karstarks did is an act of treason and therefore should be penalized for breaking their vows."

"The Free Folk helped you retake Winterfell, Your Grace." Robett Glover brought up. "It's only right that they should be repaid for their efforts."

Wyman Manderly nodded in agreement. "The Karstarks and the Umbers should be relieved from their lands and have their titles stripped off."

Jon pounded his fist on the table which immediately silenced everyone. "The Karstarks and the Umbers had reasons why they chose to side with the Boltons—"

" _Jon_ ," Sansa interrupted, her voice cold and heavy. "They've broken their vows. They're pledged to House Stark, and yet they sided with Ramsay. They should be dealt with."

"Sansa—" Jon started to say.

"You're the _King in the North!"_ Sansa exclaimed, reminding him. "You have that power."

 _I never wanted to be._ He wanted to answer, but decided against it. "Aye, I have." Jon said. "But I cannot hold their children responsible for their fathers' actions!"

Suddenly, Sansa exploded. "They betrayed us!" She yelled. "They betrayed _Robb_ , they betrayed _you_! The Karstarks share the same blood with us, but they chose to side with Boltons because Robb brought their father to justice. The Umbers sold Rickon to him and now our little brother's dead!" She took a deep breath. "How many more Starks have to die before _you_ figure that out?"

Jon glanced at his sister. Sansa looked like she was about to cry, but she kept herself together. Lyanna Mormont was giving him a displeasing look.

Suddenly, Maester Wolkan came rushing through the doors and headed towards their table.

"Your Grace," He addressed, bowing. "Princess, my Lords and Lady," He handed Jon a rolled parchment. "A raven came from Castle Black."

The tension around the room rose and everyone exchanged nervous glances. Jon took the paper and read quietly.

 _"_ _To His Grace, King Jon Stark,_

 _I am delighted to inform you that your brother, Prince Brandon Stark has returned from the North side of the Wall. He has taken refuge here at Castle Black with his only companion, Lady Meera Reed. At his request, he only insists that we lend them one horse for them return to Winterfell on the morrow._

 _Eddison Tollett, 999th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."_

Jon looked up from reading and everyone stared at him. He remembered what his friend, Samwell Tarly had told him about his cripple younger brother and his three companions.

"What is it, Your Grace?" Davos asked.

"Is the army of the dead on the march?" Tormund asked.

Jon turned to Sansa and smiled.

"What?" Sansa asked.

"It's Bran." Jon blurted out. "He's alive! He's at Castle Black." He squinted back at the parchment and read it again aloud.

When he was done, Sansa smiled, knowing he wasn't the only brother she has left. But she momentarily frowned. "But why would Bran go beyond the Wall?" She asked. "And who would dare drag a cripple boy up there?"

Jon shook his head. "I don't know." He admitted. 'That's something only Bran can answer."

Davos cleared his throat. "His companion's surname is _Reed._ " He said. "Does that ring a bell?" He asked.

"The Reeds are the Lords of Greywater Watch." Lyanna Mormont spoke up.

"And the rulers of the Crannogmen in the swamps of the Neck." Cley Cerwyn added.

"Howland Reed was a good friend of Lord Eddard." Robett Glover said. "He was with him when he rescued his sister Lyanna Stark from Prince Rhaegar's men in Dorne." He recalled. "In fact, he was the only one who returned out of the five men who went with him."

"Where's this Howland Reed now?" Davos asked.

"As far as we know," Lord Cerwyn said. "He never left the swamps since the end of Robert's Rebellion."

"This girl might be related to Howland Reed," Wyman Manderly said. "Or she's his own daughter."

"Could be," Yohn Royce said. "But why would a crannog girl want to go beyond the Wall with a crippled young lord?" He asked.

"I don't know." Jon's scowl deepened.

"What is it?" Sansa asked. "Aren't you glad that Bran's alive?"

"Of course, I am." Jon said. "Don't get me wrong. But that's not what bothered me. Sam said three people went with him beyond the Wall. Now, Edd is saying that this Lady Reed is his only companion."

"Who's Sam?" Sansa asked.

"A friend." Jon said. "A brother of the Night's Watch. He had met Bran and his three companions heading towards the Wall."

"Your brother might've known about the threat lurking beyond the Wall," Tormund said. "And went there to see for himself. His other two with him must've died."

Jon had lots of things in his head. _Why would Bran go there?_ He thought. _He can't even walk._ Jon remembered what Edd's letter had said, that Bran had insisted that they'll only be lent one horse. Perhaps Bran has actually seen the White Walkers and Wights, and he knows that the Night's Watch doesn't have enough men.

"We should send escorts to get him." Sansa suggested. "Our little brother had suffered enough. I want him to get here safe."

Jon was thinking the same thing and nodded. "I agree." He turned back to Maester Wolkan. "Write back to the Lord Commander," He said. "Tell him we're sending men to escort my brother and his companion here to Winterfell."

"At once, Your Grace." Maester Wolkan bowed then left the room.

After that, Jon had instructed Tormund and Robett Glover, who had both volunteered to get Bran from Castle Black, to take Winterfell guards and a horse cart with them.

"I'll get my men to prepare the horses and the cart." Lord Glover said, standing up.

Tormund drank from his tankard and stood as well. "Well, let's get this over with." He said.

Jon was about to speak, when Sansa beat him to it.

"You're leaving now?" She asked.

"Travelling time towards the Wall is a day and a half, Princess." Tormund said. "If you want your brother back here as soon as possible, it's the only way."

. . .

That afternoon, Sansa went and stood before the Broken Tower, at the spot where Bran was found after he fell from climbing. Bran was lying on unconscious on the ground when household guards found him. And they only had found him because his direwolf was barking and howling.

Sansa was glancing up the window where she had lit a candle during Stannis' attack, when Jon came and stood beside her.

"Bran was only a boy last I saw him." Sansa spoke up.

"Last _we_ saw him." Jon corrected.

She had completely forgotten that they had left Winterfell on the same day. Jon went with their uncle Benjen to the Wall, while she, Arya and their father left for King's Landing. And she remembered little Rickon crying and clutching Robb's leg when they all left.

"You do understand what happens when Bran gets back, don't you?" Jon brought up.

Sansa nodded. "He'll be Lord of Winterfell." She blurted out. "And it would push me back in line of succession. Yes, I know. But I don't care about that."

And she meant it. She doesn't care if she'll be pushed behind Bran in the line of succession. Now that she knew Bran's alive, she just wants her little brother back home.

Jon chuckled. "Now, we only need to know where Arya is." He said. "You know our sister. You'll never know where she is, until she's right under your foot."

"Isn't that's why they called her _Arya Underfoot_?" Sansa asked.

Jon smiled and nodded. Sansa remembered how Arya was close to their brothers other than her. Sure, Arya and Bran chased each other around the castle, ride on their ponies, and even include little Rickon in their mischievous antics. That one time they ambushed her with snowballs and she had to chase them to get back at them. But particularly, Arya was closest to Jon.

"Actually," Sansa brightened. "Before Brienne rescued me from Ramsay," She said. "She encountered Arya when she and her squire were en route to the Eyrie. And she said the Arya was heading back to the Riverlands with Sandor Clegane."

"The Hound?" Jon recalled. "Wasn't he—?"

"Joffrey's sworn shield, yes." Sansa interrupted. "But he escaped the Lannisters when Stannis Baratheon attacked King's Landing through Blackwater Bay."

"How'd you know that?" He asked.

"I was there." Sansa said. "And he offered to take me with him." _And she wished she had gone with him._ Sansa thought. Littlefinger might have not forced her to marry Ramsay Bolton if she did.

Jon sighed. "I'm having a chair made for Bran," He brought up. "Since he can't walk anymore. It'll have wheels on in, so we can easily move it wherever he wants to go."

Sansa nodded. "That's good." But there's something else bothering her.

"Hopefully, it'll be finished before he gets here." Jon said. He seemed to have notice her being so forlorn. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"I just don't know how tell Bran about what happened to Rickon." She said. "He practically raised him since we all left Winterfell. I don't know how he's going to take it when he finds out."

Jon placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bran is stronger than you think." He assured. "He was able cope up when he lost the use of his legs."

Sansa frowned at him. "That's different."

"What I'm saying is," Jon said. "It will be heartbreaking at first. But overtime, he'll eventually learn to accept it."


	12. Castle Black (Part 2)

During supper, Lord Commander Edd told Bran that Jon was sending men to get him. He hadn't expected this. Before that, Edd offered men from the Night's Watch to escort him to Winterfell. But as he observed, there were barely fifty men manning the castle. Sending men away will weaken the Wall's manpower. And he couldn't have that to happen.

That night, they were each given a guest quarters. But Bran insisted that they should be occupying one room, which made Edd raise his eyebrows in suspicion.

"He can't walk." Meera reminded Edd. "You expect him to move around on his own even with the direwolf's help?" She asked.

Edd seemed to buy it, and ordered one bed to be transferred to the quarters they'd be sleeping in. And after lighting the fireplace, Edd left them to themselves.

Bran understood Edd, Meera wasn't supposed to be sharing Bran's room. The brothers of Night's Watch were brave men, he had to admit. But before they came to Castle Black, most of them had been thieves, murderers, or rapers. Bran couldn't do much to help Meera if somebody would try to attack her or anything. But even though he knew she was capable of taking care of herself, he still decided that it's best to keep her close to him. Just to be sure she's safe.

Bran lay on one of the beds. The direwolf Winter had found himself a spot on a rug in front of the fireplace. Meera placed her bow at the foot of her bed before lying down on the bed across from his. And soon enough, they were dozing off.

He hadn't slept in a soft featherbed and in the warmth of fire in years. But of course, it's also the time that his green dreams decided to return.

In his dreams, Bran saw his family. The same way his visions took place, each scene seemed like a millisecond fast. He saw the day Robb went South with the North bannermen; how his father was executed in the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, with his sisters Sansa and Arya nearby; how Robb was stabbed through the heart, and their mother's throat slit open; how little Rickon ran to towards Jon, then an arrow pierced through his chest; how North bannermen lay down their swords and knelt before Jon and Sansa in Winterfell's great hall; and lastly, his sister Arya, walking away smiling from burning towers with hundreds of wolves rallying behind her.

Bran woke with a start. He pushed himself up on his elbows and sat up. He looked around the room. It was quiet except for the fire crackling softly under the fireplace. Meera was still sleeping soundly. Winter's eyes opened in alarm.

The one thing that bothered him in his visions was the part about Rickon. His little brother was running frantically towards Jon, who was on horseback also trying to ride towards him. They were so close until an arrow pierced through Rickon's chest and he fell to the ground coughing out blood. And he never moved again.

Suddenly, there were tears in Bran's eyes. He shouldn't have left Rickon out of his sight.

Winter must have sensed his distress and went to nuzzle Bran's face.

"I'm fine, Winter." Bran said, patting the direwolf's head.

Meera stirred and he quickly wiped his tears from his cheeks.

"Bran?" Meera called, then she got out bed and rushed to him. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Winter went back to lounging on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Bran sniffled. "Nothing." He lied. "Just go back to sleep." His voice shaky.

Meera raised an eyebrow. "Winter wouldn't be up if it was nothing." She insisted as she sat beside him. "Come on, what is it?"

A tear trickled down his cheek. _I shouldn't be crying_ , Bran told himself. _I'm a grown man not some whiny little babe._ But somehow he found himself telling Meera what he saw.

"Rickon was only a boy." He sobbed. "If I had known, I shouldn't have sent him there knowing how he'd end up."

Meera placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She said. "But that's not your fault."

"It is." Bran insisted. "I _should_ have known. I'm a greenseer, how could I have not seen it?"

Meera wrapped an arm around him. "You only did what you thought was best for Rickon. I'm sure he knows that." She assured.

Bran cried on her shoulder. "I led my little brother to his death." He said. "I was supposed to be protecting him."

Meera patted his back. "Trust me," She said, pulling him closer. "I know that feeling."

Bran had almost forgotten. Meera had lost her little brother, Jojen on the north side of the Wall. To the Wights who were after them.

He blinked, jerking his head back slightly. Of course, that had been hurting Meera all this time—it had been an ache in his chest as well. Bran had lost people he'd loved before, his father, mother, and eldest brother. But his friends, Hodor and Jojen Reed had died _for_ him. Jojen had walked through Northern forests to find Bran, all while knowing he would die if he did. And Hodor did it without protesting. Three of them had gone with him beyond the Wall, now Meera was all he had.

Bran pulled away and wiped his tears. "You're coming with me when I leave, right?" He asked, breaking the silence that surrounded them.

Meera looked over to him, a piece of her brown curls falling into her eyes. "Of course," She said. "I can't stay here. I'm your protector. Wherever you go, I go, remember?"

Bran smiled. "I just I was just… I meant more, at you coming to Winterfell with me or are you going home…back to Greywater Watch?" He asked.

Meera looked down and was quiet for a long time. "I suppose I must go back." She finally said. "I haven't seen my father in a long time," She frowned. "But I'm not sure that's what I want to do. I don't know if it's going to be home anymore without Jojen."

"I feel the same way about Winterfell. It'll be hard to go back, seeing it after everything. I don't even know what it looks like anymore, since they burned it down. And being there without my mother, father, Robb or Rickon…" He sighed. "But I couldn't imagine not going back. Winterfell is the only home I've ever known."

"That's why they're sending men to get you." Meera said. Her hand snaked through the furs and took Bran's hand in her own. "You're a Stark of Winterfell," She reminded him. "And winter is already here. And you know what that means."

The words chilled Bran and he could feel where the warmth spread from Meera's hand. "Then you're going back to Greywater Watch, you're the heir now." He said.

Meera sighed. "Well, it seems the most logical plan, to go back and… _rule_." She said the word in disgust, like she hated the idea of it. "But that's not what I want. That was supposed to be Jojen's seat, not mine." She continued. "Nevertheless, you need to rest, Bran. Go back to sleep."

"No, _you_ need to rest." Bran countered. "You keep telling me to rest, but it's you who need rest, Meera."

"Bran—" She started to say.

"I'm commanding you to rest." Bran ordered. "Go back to sleep."

Meera chuckled. "No one orders me around."

"I'm your Prince." Bran reminded her. "And I'm telling you to rest, seriously."

She smiled. "I will if you will." She said.

After a silent staring contest, they both lie back in their beds. Bran assumed Meera went back to sleep. But he didn't. He was afraid of having green dreams again. Dreams that concerned his family. Like the fact that little Rickon is gone and he was once again, the youngest in the family. And that he only had two siblings left, since Jon isn't really his brother.

. . .

The following morning, before midday, Meera had asked Lord Commander Edd if she could practice in the archery range, which he had allowed.

The winds grew colder and colder everyday, as Edd had said. So Bran donned his cloak, which had gotten smaller since he last wore it, back before they went beyond the Wall. Meera wore a mud-green cloak of the crannogmen, which he assumed was Jojen's since it reached her ankles.

He sat on one of the benches, with his back leaning on a table. Winter was quietly sitting by his feet, munching on a bone. Bran watched as Meera fired arrows and hit the bull's-eye everytime.

"She's good." Edd said, as he sat beside him.

Bran frowned at him. Edd's been with Jon north of the Wall and had probably fought off Wights yet he seemed to be surprised. "You've never seen a girl shoot an arrow that accurately before, Lord Commander?" He asked.

"Oh, I have, Prince Bran," Edd replied. "Only they were Wildling spearwives not highborn girls south of the Wall."

"Spearwives?" Meera asked.

Before Edd can explain, one of the sentries yelled. "Open the gates!"

Edd stood as the gates swung open. Meera plucked the arrows from the practicing targets and placed them back into her quiver, then she went and stood by Bran. Winter had forgotten his bone and stood growling.

"Take it easy, boy." Bran told the direwolf.

Men on horseback went into the courtyard carrying Stark banners.

Edd turned to Bran. "I believe your escort is here, Prince Bran." He said.

The Stark banners were different. The colors were reversed. So instead of a grey direwolf on a white field, it was a white wolf on a grey field. That was probably to signify Jon's status as a bastard, even if he was legitimized.

Following the men who carried the Stark heraldry, were six other men. Three men in surcoat armors and cloaks. One of the men, with the brown-grey hair and beard, had his cloak was clasped with a silver brooch in the shape of an armored fist, which made Bran to think that they were men of the Glovers of Deepwood Motte, and the lord of Deepwood Motte himself. The other three men were in animal fur coats, which he could tell were Wildlings that Jon had allowed passed the Wall. All six of them had swords at their side.

Behind them was an empty horse cart, which he was probably meant to carry him back to Winterfell.

The bearded Wildling with red hair dismounted his horse and walked towards Edd.

"Lord Commander!" He howled as he shook Edd's hand and gave his back a pat. "Good to see you, again."

"Tormund," Edd said, then turned to the brown-grey haired man.

The man, Tormund, gestured to the brown-grey haired man in a cloak. "This is Lord Robbet Glover of Deepwood Motte."

Bran remembered the Glovers. Well, actually he remembered his older brother, Galbart Glover. He led the vanguard of the Northmen as Robb had ordered, which, of course, had gotten into a dispute with Greatjon Umber.

"Milord," Edd bowed. "Welcome to Castle Black."

"Lord Commander," The brown-grey haired man addressed as he handed him a rolled a piece of parchment. "We were sent by King Jon to fetch his brother, Prince Brandon." He said. "Where is the prince?" He asked.

Edd waved his hand at Bran's direction and they all turned to him.

Tormund trudged over to him. He did so in a fast pace, that Meera had to push him backwards as she grasped her bow tightly in defensive stance. Suddenly, Winter stood in his way and growled which it made him halt.

"Winter," Bran called. "Heel."

The direwolf then barred its fangs and stopped growling. Winter then sat back down by Bran's feet and munched on the bone he had left earlier.

"Sorry, about that." Bran apologized as he stroke Winter's hide. "He's just really protective, that's all."

The newcomers turned to Bran, then at Meera, then at the direwolf Winter.

Tormund continued to walk towards him and bent down until his face was only about six inches from Bran's, making him lean on the edge of the table.

He knitted his brows at him. "You're Prince Brandon?" Tormund asked.

"Uh, yes." Bran said.

Tormund nodded and grinned. "Well, the direwolf already proved that, my prince."

Robett Glover approached him. "Prince Brandon," He addressed as he bowed. Then turned to Meera. "And you must be Lady Reed." Then he frowned. "Are you…Howland Reed's daughter?" He asked.

"I am, my lord." Meera confirmed.

Lord Glover nodded. "So Lord Reed sent his daughter to aid the prince—" He speculated.

"Howland Reed sent his _son_ and _daughter_ to aid me, a cripple." Bran corrected. He wanted to explain why they went beyond the Wall, but he stopped himself. _Not here,_ Bran thought. _Not with them._

Robett Glover looked around, probably looking for Howland Reed's son.

"If you're looking for my brother," Meera said. "He didn't make it."

"He died protecting me." Bran brought up.

Lord Glover looked down. "I'm sorry."

"Must say," Tormund said, frowning at Meera. "I didn't expect you to look like this, milady."

Meera looked offended. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I don't know how to use a weapon." She said.

Tormund shrugged. "Suppose."

Edd cleared his throat. "Milords, milady," He said. "Should we have a midday meal before you leave for Winterfell?

"Now, you're talking!" Tormund said. "I haven't eaten a proper meal since Winterfell."

Edd called some brothers from the Night's Watch. "Boys, carry the prince to the common hall." He ordered.


	13. The Red Woman

"Is it true what I've heard?" Gendry asked, after Brienne left with Podrick. "We're not going to Winterfell?"

"We _are_ ," Arya assured. "Just not now. We need to go back to Hollow Hill."

"Why?" Gendry asked. "You said we're going North—"

"I need to talk to Beric Dondarrion." Arya said. "And if you're so wound up on going North, why don't you catch up with Brienne, surely they've not travelled that far yet."

Gendry raised his hands in surrender and sighed. "Okay, sorry." He said. "Next time, when you have a plan, tell me first so I can help."

Arya turned to her direwolf. "Stay here, Nymeria."

They went back inside the Crossroads Inn, to find the members of the Brotherhood drinking and eating their meals.

Harwin and Ned Dayne sat beside each other while Tom O' Sevens and Anguy sat across them from the table.

Ned stood when he saw them approach their table. "My lady," He addressed. "Gendry." He sat back down. "I thought you were going with them North. What are you still doing here?" He asked.

"We need your help." Arya said.

Tom O' Seven kept drinking. He was usually the one doing the talking, and he wasn't even strumming his wood harp, which wasn't like him. She had probably frightened him enough when Nymeria showed him up. So in this case, Ned and Harwin were doing the talking.

"You need our help with what, princess?" Harwin asked.

"Do you know the quickest way back to Hollow Hill?" She asked.

"Why don't you ask Gendry about that." Ned suggested.

"If he had known that, we should've been on our way not asking you the question now." Arya pointed out. "It took us a day and a half to get here."

Ned turned to the woodharp singer. "Tom?"

Tom O' Sevens put down his tankard. "The quickest way is through the Kingsroad, then the Goldroad. It's a few hours travel, but there's a catch. You'd be easily spotted by Lannister or Frey soldiers."

Gendry turned to Tom O' Sevens. "You've been in many scouting parties." He brought up. "How _do_ you get to Hollow Hill from here?" He asked.

"Why don't you know anything, boy?" Tom snapped at Gendry. "You've been with us for a while."

"I have," Gendry said. "But I've never been exposed out here like you. I'm a blacksmith, I barely leave Hollow Hill." He explained.

"Hmm, I'll never understand why Lord Beric keeps you close." Harwin said.

"We'll leave for Hollow Hill when we're done here." Ned said. "You can come with us if you want." He offered.

"We don't use the fastest route back, milady." Harwin brought up. "But we'll get there by nightfall."

"Oh, no, no, no!" Tom O' Sevens slammed his tankard on table. "I'm _not_ going back to Hollow Hill with that pack of wolves on my tail."

"The wolves have to come with us." Gendry insisted. "They're good company and they offer great protection."

"That direwolf nearly lunged at me!" Tom reminded them. "It's going to bite my guts out! I'm not going anywhere with the girl's wolf pack that follows her around." He whimpered.

"It's not my pack," Arya corrected. "It's my direwolf, Nymeria's. And the wolf pack doesn't follow me around, it follows her."

Tom shook his head, clearly still terrified at the sight of the wolves.

Arya sighed. "I won't let them get anywhere near you, if that's what you're worried about." She promised. "You have my word at that."

Tom hesitated then nodded at Ned and Harwin.

"We have a deal." Ned said.

. . .

Just as they were preparing their horses for Hollow Hill, Nymeria barked. They all turned and saw a rider in red cloak on horseback dismounting in front of the Inn.

Arya recognized that red cloak anywhere. She had never forgotten it. _The red woman_ , she thought. Suddenly, all the blood in her body rose to anger.

She turned to Gendry, whose face turned pale as he stood behind Nymeria. Whatever the red woman did to him, she didn't know. But that had got to be not good because Gendry looked really frightened at the sight of her.

She was about to confront her, when Gendry pulled her arm.

"Please, don't," He said. "You have no idea how dangerous she is."

"What did she do to you?" Arya asked.

Gendry shook his head. She could tell that he was too traumatized to remember.

Arya had placed people on her list for a reason. And as for the red woman, it was because she took Gendry away from her, who was her only friend left. And Arya's not gonna let her get away with it.

"Watch me," Arya shook her arm from Gendry's grip.

"Arya!" He called after her.

Arya trudged down and stood in the red woman's way. Gendry and Ned followed her and stood protectively beside her. The other men of the Brotherhood started to gather behind them.

The red woman pushed back the hood of her cloak behind her. " _Valar Morghulis_." She said.

" _Valar Dohaeris_." Arya responded, placing her hand on Needle hanging at her belt. "I don't know if you remember me."

The red woman faced her. "Oh, I remember telling you we'd meet again, Arya Stark." She said.

Ned frowned at the red woman. "Lady Melisandre," He addressed. "What brings you back in the Riverlands?" He asked.

Arya frowned at Ned. "You know her?" She asked.

"She came to the Brotherhood years ago," Ned recalled. "She's a red priestess to their Lord of Light, like Thoros. You were there, don't you remember?" He asked.

"Of course, I remember." Arya said. "She took Gendry."

The red woman, Melisandre, smiled at them. "I already saw this in the flames."

 _Okay, she's as mad as Thoros_ , Arya thought. _Blabbering about things in the fire._ "I don't care what you care what you see in the flames." She said.

Melisandre seemed to notice her mockery and started walking closer towards her. "I see many things in the flames, prin—" She started to say, but was interrupted when Nymeria burst out of nowhere, stood between Arya and the red priestess growling.

Melisandre was taken aback, clearly surprised to see the direwolf flashing its fangs at her.

Arya gave her a smirk and crossed her arms. "Don't call me princess." She said.

The red priestess took a deep breath. "I saw you," She continued, clearly trying to hide her fear from the direwolf, and she's good at hiding it. "But I _also_ see in you the Stark girl who started a war throughout the seven kingdoms, just because she ran off with a silver-haired prince."

Arya glared at her. "I may look like my aunt Lyanna, but I am not her." She argued. "And she never ran off with him, she was kidnapped."

Melisandre smiled. She walked past Nymeria and headed towards Arya, but Gendry held an arm before her protectively. "If you're going to hurt her, you'll have to go through me first." He warned.

Arya happened to glance Gendry's way. He was terrified, but he was willing to stand up to the red witch for her.

"You're a brave young man, Gendry," Melisandre said. "Like your father, he was also willing to risk anything for those he cared about. He went to war for it."

Arya pushed away Gendry's arm. She pulled the dagger the Hound had given her, and held it at the red woman's throat. Melisandre tried to step back, but Nymeria was there, growling and barking angrily. The men of the Brotherhood behind them started drawing their weapons. Ned drew his sword, and Gendry readied his battle axe.

Melisandre had nowhere to go, so she raised her hands in surrender.

"What are you doing here?" Arya asked.

The red priestess was well aware of the blade pointed at her throat. "Your brother, King Jon," She explained. "He told me to ride south."

Arya frowned. "Why?" She asked.

"I don't think it's not important—" Melisandre started to say.

Arya held the dagger higher. "Why?" She asked again. "We all wanna know."

Nymeria growled louder and the red woman gulped. Several of the wolves from the pack started emerging from the woods again, growling of course.

"Go on," Arya said, turning impatient. "We don't have all day."

Melisandre was quiet for a moment. She seemed to notice for the first time that she was trapped, then she sighed. "Alright, I—We burned the Princess Shireen at the stake." She blurted out.

Arya shook her head. She doesn't recognize the name. "Who's that?" She asked.

"Stannis Baratheon's daughter." Gendry spoke up. "She was only a child."

So this red witch literally burned Gendry's cousin alive. Arya never understood why Jon hadn't executed her. "You're not a priestess, you're a witch." She confirmed. "You don't deserve to be in exile, you deserve to die for what you did."

"Princess, I—"

"I know my brother." Arya said. "He wouldn't just banish you, he would've executed you. But he didn't. You must've done something to his favor that made him a merciful man and just force you on exile."

"You don't understand!" Melisandre choked. "Lives have been taken by the commands of the Lord of Light—" She started to explain.

"I don't care about your lord of light!" Arya yelled. "If your lord commands his followers to burn people at the stake then that lord is evil. Why should we even believe you right now?"

"He's the reason we're all here now." Melisandre insisted. "Your brother, King Jon is alive because of him."

Arya raised an eyebrow in confusion. "That doesn't even make sense." She said.

"Your brother was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." The red priestess explained. "His black brothers turned against him and murdered him. He was dead, but the lord brought him back."

Arya shook her head in disbelief. "That's impossible." She said.

"You don't seem to believe that." Melisandre noticed. "You saw what had happened to Beric Dondarrion, princess. He's brought back to life for a reason. And so was your brother. King Jon has a part to play in the long night."

Arya slowly removed her dagger from the red priestess' throat, but the wolves kept growling.

Melisandre turned to Gendry. "Even Gendry has a part in it." She said. "He'll be a capable warrior, like his father."

"That doesn't matter!" Gendry bellowed. "He's dead. Never even knew him."

"Of course, it matters," Melisandre said. "You're the last of your blood. Your uncle and his entire army all died in battle."

That made Gendry's eyes widened in surprise.

Ned turned to Gendry. "Gendry, what is she talking about?" He asked.

"Now's not the time for this, Edric." Gendry scolded. "We have to take care of this red witch. She's a murderer."

Arya pondered everything Melisandre had just said. Again, she could always tell if people were lying. She was trained to detect lies from different types of people during her time with the Faceless men. But somehow, everything the red woman had said was true.

Ned turned to the others behind them. "Alright, boys. Seize her." He ordered.

The men of the Brotherhood started to advance at the red woman.

" _No_." Arya spoke up in a stern tone.

They halted and turned to her in surprise. Even Gendry and Ned gave her skeptical looks.

"What?" Ned asked as if he'd misheard. "Arya, she's a murderer." He reminded her. "You know what the Brotherhood does to murderers, we hang them."

"And you won't do such a thing." Arya said, placing her dagger back to its sheath. "I'll handle this."

Ned still looked unconvinced.

Arya turned to Gendry for assurance. _Trust me_ , she seemed to be saying.

"You're going to listen to her again?" Tom O'Sevens complained. "Come on, boy—!"

"Tom, shut up!" Gendry interrupted, then he turned to Ned. "Do as she says, Edric. She knows what she's doing." He assured.

Ned sighed and nodded. "Alright," He turned to Arya. "Do your thing."

Arya smiled at him, which made Gendry frown. That, she didn't understand.

"Nymeria," Arya called. "Heel."

The wolves stopped growling and barred their fangs.

Arya turned back to Melisandre. "Maybe my brother was right," She said. "Ride _further_ south. As far south as south goes. If you ever come back this way, the wolf pack will hunt you down and I will kill you myself, then feed what's left of you to the wolves." She warned. "They love fresh meat."

If Jon had actually died, and it was this red priestess who had brought him back to life, Arya's simple thank you will be sparing her life. For now.

Melisandre seemed relieved about it, and nodded. "A great house will fall, and their stronghold will burn bright in the darkest hour of the night."

Arya shrugged in confusion. "I'm sending you away, and you're still talking in riddles?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't even understand what you were saying."

The red priestess chuckled. "History will always repeat itself, if not in the way we expect. Learn to bear that in mind."


	14. Uprisings in the Riverlands

The snow was starting to fall again when Arya and Gendry were travelling back to Hollow Hill with Ned, Harwin , Tom, the other members, and the wolf pack.

They arrived at Hollow Hill by nightfall, as what Harwin had said.

"Lord Beric will be surprised to find you back here." Gendry spoke up as he dismounted from his horse. "They probably thought that you're at Winterfell by now."

"On the road to Winterfell." Arya corrected. "It's a day's travel from the Crossroads. Anyways, I don't care what he thinks. I'm going to need his help."

Arya dismounted from her horse and Nymeria came to her side. "Stay with the pack."

"You need his help with what?" Gendry asked.

"To help free my uncle from the Freys." Arya said in a hushed tone.

Gendry's eyes widened. "What?" He exclaimed. "Arya, you're talking about removing power from a ruling house—"

"I don't care who's ruling the Riverlands," She said. "I just want my uncle out of the Twins and back where he belongs, at Riverrun."

They entered the cave, which was as it was when she left it two days ago. As expected, Beric Dondarrion and The Hound, Sandor Clegane were surprised to see her. Thoros of Myr, however, grinned at her while drinking from his canteen of ale, like he'd somehow knew she'd return.

"Princess Arya," Beric addressed. "What are you doing back here? You should be home at Winterfell by now."

Arya glared at him in annoyance. "How many times do I have to say it, don't call me _princess_!" She gritted her teeth.

The Hound snorted. "Like I said, _princess_ ," He said. "Everyone's going to call you that when you get home." He said. "Might as well get use to it."

"Hmm," Thoros said. "You didn't come back here because you missed us or anything, no, no, no." He smiled."You came back here because you need our help with something." He raised his canteen and drank from it.

Arya sighed. "My uncle, Edmure Tully is kept a prisoner at the Twins," She started.

"And, I suppose," The Hound interrupted. "You need our help to get him out?"

Arya shrugged. "And take back Riverrun, yes." She added.

Beric shook his head. "That's something we can't do, my lady. We don't have the men, we don't have the supplies."

"My father tasked you to come here and fight for those who can't fight for themselves." Arya brought up. "Not to sulk up in some cave away from society."

"Your Lord father had tasked me to intercept the Mountain and his raiding parties." Beric corrected. "Not lead sieges on castles."

"The raiding parties are gone when my brother came to the Riverlands," Arya brought up. "My father's dead, and his brother—" She jabbed a finger at the Hound— "Is back in King's Landing serving as Lord Commander of that yellow-haired whore's Queensguard." She turned back to Beric. "And you should be back in the Stormlands. But, what are you still doing here?" She asked.

"We ought to serve the ruling House of the Riverlands and its liege lord." Beric said.

"House Tully _is_ the ruling House of the Riverlands." Arya reminded them. "Edmure Tully _is_ your liege lord. Walder Frey assumed that position after he ordered to kill my brother, my mother and the entire Stark-Tully forces who were just trying to cross the Green Fork. You've been here for almost five years, you should know that."

"As far as we know, princess," The Hound said. "Lord Edmure surrendered Riverrun to the Freys."

"Because had no choice!" Arya argued. "They threatened to kill his family if he didn't."

"I wouldn't mind that. Not all families are the same." The Hound shrugged. "I'd take that bargain any day."

"Of course, you wouldn't understand," Arya said. "You hated your brother for what he did to your face. And not all people are like you." She turned back to Beric. "My uncle knew the Tully words by heart," She said. " _Family, Duty, Honor._ Family always comes first and that's what he did."

Everyone turned to her, dumbfounded. Arya had never known those words came from her. She wasn't a negotiator and talking isn't really her thing.

"My mother was _Catelyn Tully_ ," Arya continued. "Tully blood also runs through my veins. And I'm doing this for my family, to give justice to their deaths."

Beric nodded and smiled. "You're clearly not the same little girl we captured years ago. You're a grown young woman, Arya Stark. Your mother and father would be proud."

"Alright, enough small talks," Arya interrupted. "Are you going to help or not?" She asked.

Beric sighed. "My lady, even if we want to help, we don't have enough men for an assault and rescue, much less to retake a castle."

"I thought you rallied commoners to your cause." Arya brought up.

"We did, my lady," Beric said. "But our numbers are still few."

"The side with the greater number wins," Gendry spoke up, which surprised her. She had almost forgotten that he'd been standing next to her. "Nine times out of ten, yes. But we must be the tenth. As long as we have a good plan and the stealth to do it, our numbers won't matter."

Beric smiled. "I agree." Clearly, he was impressed with what Gendry had said. "But we don't have enough weapons and supplies."

"I heard there are loyal Tully bannermen who are rebelling against the Freys." Arya said. "Is that true?" She asked.

Beric nodded. "The Blackwoods of Raventree Hall and the Mallisters of Seagard." He said. "The Blackwoods, especially. Your brother liberated them from the Lannisters. They are in debt to both the Tullys and the Starks. But if we want an alliance with them, there's another problem."

"What problem?" Gendry asked.

"The lords of those holdfasts are prisoners in their own homes." Beric explained. "Lords Tytos Blackwood and Jason Mallister are kept in their dungeons, with Lannister and Frey guards keeping watch. Their men are forced to follow the enemy's orders."

 _This is a lot of work_ , Arya thought. They need to get her uncle out of the Twins. To do that, they'll need help from loyal Tully bannermen, the Blackwoods and the Mallisters. To get their help, they need to be freed being prisoners in their own homes. To free them, you have to have access inside their castles.

"But we need their help," She insisted.

"We don't have enough supplies," The Hound said again."Especially for a siege."

"It doesn't have to be a siege." Arya said. "Just because it's a castle, the plan is to besiege it, starve them out until they surrender? It's a stupid plan, if you ask me. There are always other ways."

"What did you had in mind?" The Hound asked sarcastically. "As if you've actually seen a siege yourself."

Arya was tempted to say that she had training with the _Faceless Men_ in Braavos. The first thing to do when given a target was to study them. Evaluate their strengths and weaknesses, and find the quickest and cleanest way to kill them.

"Get some of your men behind enemy lines," She suggested. "Have them study what happens and what goes around inside the castles, then have them report back to you everything, from the hour they cook their meals to when the guards' shift starts and ends."

The Hound leaned forward. " _How_ are we going to get men inside?" He asked.

Arya turned to him. "Have them pose as farmers, stewards, stable boys, something." She suggested.

Beric considered this. "To defeat the enemy, you have to understand them." He said.

Arya nodded. "Strike at night, when the castle sleeps." She continued. "That way, it'll be too dark for them to see what's coming, they won't know what'll hit them, _and_ the wolves are active at night."

The hound nearly spat out his drink. "Wolves, you say?" He asked as if he'd misheard.

"Well, uh," Gendry turned to her, then back at the Hound. "See, she sort of, tamed the wolf pack."

"Those wolves are wild," The Hound reminded them. "And they prey on any meat. How in seven hells can a girl like her be able to tame that many?"

Gendry shrugged. "You can ask Tom about that." He said.

At the word _wolves_ , Tom O' Sevens looked around frantically, afraid that the wolves had come near him again.

"Relax, Tom," Arya said. "They're outside. They won't harm you."

Beric turned to Thoros, who nodded in response.

"Alright," Beric agreed. "We'll have men inside the castles. To Raventree Hall, Seagard, and Riverrun. Then we'll start taking Raventree Hall, since it's closer. But, when all of this is over, when we get your uncle out of the Twins—"

Arya knew this kind of talk, they want something in return. "What do you want?" She interrupted.

"We don't want anything, princess," Thoros spoke up. "We only wish to go with you North and pledge our cause to your brother, King Jon."

Arya raised her eyebrow in surprise. "Why?" She asked. "So you can force him to reward you for returning me to Winterfell safely?"

"We're not ransoming you, my lady," Beric said. "We already let you go, but you came back to us. Your brother is one of the only people who knows that the real war will not happen down south, but up in the North." He explained. "As you can see, winter is already here. King Jon will need all the men he has to help him."

"Help him with what?" Arya asked.

"The things lurking beyond the Wall." Thoros said.

Arya snorted. "I thought we have the Night's Watch for that." She said.

"The men of the Night's Watch can't stop them." Beric countered. "And if those things manage to go south, the Northerners will be the first to fight them. And we're not talking about Wildlings."

Arya shrugged. "Very well," She agreed. "You'll go North with me, and the wolves. But you have to get use to them following me."

. . .

After talking, Lord Beric invited them for supper. Arya went out the cave to get Nymeria. When she came back, she got startling looks from the men of the Brotherhood.

Thoros dropped his canteen. "That's a real direwolf?" He asked.

"Yes." Arya said, as she sat down next to Gendry. "I told you, you'll have to get use to them."

"Where are the rest?" Beric asked. "I was told there were hundreds of wolves in the pack."

"Outside," She said. "Apparently, they prefer the cold better than being inside a cave."

"Oh, good." Beric sighed in relief.

They were sitting around a firepit. Beric, Gendry, Arya, Thoros, Ned Dayne and the Hound ate platters of roasted goat meat. Beric discussed about going North and suggested that Ned return to Starfall in Dorne.

Ned frowned. "Why?" He asked. "My place is with the Brotherhood, with you."

"Edric," Beric said. "Your place _was_ with me, when you were my squire. You're not a squire anymore, you're an anointed knight. And not just any knight, you're the heir to Starfall. You need to go home now."

Ned hesitated for a moment then finally agreed to do so.

"I'll allow some men to go with you if they wish." Beric said. "You'll leave at first light."

Ned frowned. "But that's so soon." He complained.

"You need to leave before the Brotherhood strikes for Raventree Hall." Beric suggested.

After a few talks, Beric patted Gendry on his shoulder. "I just want to say that I'm glad that you stood up for what you believed in today, Gendry. You really are Rob—I mean your father's son." He said. "You have a persistent trait, just like him."

Beric nearly slipped that little information out of his tongue. _He must be already drunk_ , Arya thought.

Gendry didn't seem flattered. "I don't want to be like him." He said.

"I don't blame you, boy." Beric said. "He was a great warrior, but a terrible ruler. Always drinking and whoring. He had a horrible reputation, if you ask me."

"Who _was_ Gendry's father?" Ned Dayne suddenly asked.

Beric glanced his way, as if he'd forgotten that he was there. Everyone present around the firepit, turned to him in surprise. Arya remembered what Gendry had told her about who else knew about his parentage while on their way to the Inn at the Crossroads. Besides herself, the red woman, his uncle Stannis, his right hand man, the Onion knight; only Beric, Thoros and the Hound knew about it.

Edric Dayne was apparently left out in the dark in that matter. Probably because he was out with in the scouting parties with Harwin and Tom O'Sevens.

"Ned," Beric said. "You should be preparing for your journey to Starfall—"

"You said Gendry was a bastard." Ned interrupted. "Hence, his last name, _Waters_. But the way you said it, his father seems like an important person. Like he was some lord."

"I served his father." Beric admitted. "I've served many lords in my day."

Ned shook his head. "I've known that you've served two." He recalled. "Robert Baratheon, before he was king, he was your liege lord in the Stormlands, when you were the lord of Blackhaven; and Eddard Stark when you were at court, before you were sent here in the Riverlands—"

Arya realized Edric was so close to the truth. She can't risk Gendry's parentage, especially now that Cersei's queen. That yellow-haired woman would stop at nothing to hunt him down.

"Ned, please," Arya interrupted. "Just listen to what Lord Beric said. You need to rest for your long journey in the morning."

Ned was silent for a moment. Then finally, he sighed. "Alright," He turned to Arya. "For you." He said before walking outside Hollow Hill.

After Ned left, Beric turned to Arya. "You just saved me from an explanation, my lady." He said. "I'll never forget that." Then he knitted his brows in curiosity. "Do you know about it?" Who Gendry's father is?" He asked.

Arya nodded in confirmation. "He was my father's friend. They were squires to Jon Arryn in the Eyrie when they were boys. And he was supposed to marry my aunt Lyanna, before she got herself kidnapped."

She noticed Gendry raising an eyebrow at her.

"What?" She asked.

"You seem to know more about the rebellion and my father more than I do." Gendry pointed out.

"Of course," Arya responded in annoyance. "Everyone keeps telling me I look like my aunt Lyanna Stark, and your father went to war to get her back. How could I not know about it?"

"Yes, well," Thoros spoke up. "And here we are, two decades later, listening to King Robert's son, and Lord Eddard's daughter arguing in a cave in the Riverlands." He drank from his canteen. "Seems surprising enough for us, don't you think?"


	15. Tactics

The next day, Edric Dayne left Hollow Hill for Starfall. About eight members of the Brotherhood volunteered to go with him, including the woodharp singer Tom O'Sevens. Arya thought that was sort of her fault. If she hadn't had Nymeria scare the hairs out of him, he wouldn't be leaving. But Beric Dondarrion had assured her that it was because he had a little dispute with Edmure Tully, about some girl. And with Lysa Tully-Arryn about sending him to High road where the Vale mountain clans stole his gold.

Ned shook Gendry's hand and patted his shoulder. "You take care of her, will you?" He said, motioning his head in Arya's direction.

Arya rolled her eyes. "I'm not some helpless little girl who needs protecting." She protested. "I can take care of myself."

Gendry shrugged. "Not typical for a princess," He said. "But you heard her, Ned. She's not one to mess with."

Arya punched him in his arm. "Don't call me _princess_!" She complained.

"Alright, geez.," Gendry said, rubbing his arm.

"Okay, now I'm convinced." Ned said. He gave Arya a quick hug, then pulled her hand kissed it, much to her surprise. And much to Gendry's dismay. Again, she didn't understand why he disliked Edric. She's going to ask about that later.

Beric simply patted his shoulder. "Safe travels, Lord Dayne."

Ned Dayne gave one last wave and then rode off on his way back to Dorne.

. . .

Few hours before midday, after Arya led Nymeria and the Wolfpack to wander in an open clearing near Hollow Hill, she found Gendry in the forges hammering steel.

"Hey," Arya called.

Gendry was so engrossed with his work that he nearly swung his hammer at her when she spoke.

"Seven hells, Arya!" Gendry scolded. "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that. Not while I'm working."

"Sorry," She said, climbing up onto one of the boulders in the cave. "So what's your problem with Edric Dayne?" She asked.

Gendry glanced her way, then quickly went back to working. "Nothing." He managed to say.

 _He's lying again._ Arya thought. "Nothing?" She repeated. "Come on, you don't like him. I can tell."

"Why are you asking me this?" Gendry asked, clearly more annoyed than he was after she asked the first question. "Is it a life or death question?"

"I just wanted to know why you hate him so much." Arya said. "What did he ever do?"

Gendry never answered. He just continued working and hammering harder. Obviously, he hated that subject being brought up.

Since there was tension in the air, Arya decided to change the topic. "So what are you making this time? A new weapon for yourself?" She asked, slowly nibbling an apple.

Arya then realized that they were in a similar scene a few times when they were in Harrenhal. She was cupbearer to Tywin Lannister, while Gendry was a blacksmith in the forges and Hot Pie was a cook in the kitchens. During her free time, she would go to the smithy, split the food Hot Pie had given her with Gendry, and watch him hammer steel. And she would ask him the same question.

She knew Gendry hated being interrupted while working, but she does it anyway and he had eventually gotten used to it.

"Yes," Gendry's face brightened at the question. "I figured the battleaxe grew out on me. I don't like fighting up close with it. It's too short."

"Then why didn't you just forge yourself a longsword?" She suggested.

"Longswords are too typical for foot soldiers." Gendry said, dipping the hammered steel into a bucket of water, and then pulled his new weapon from the murky water.

It was a spiked iron warhammer. The very same weapon his father used to wield.

"I want mine to be different." He said, swinging the weapon for the first time. "To be able to kill enemies with one swing."

"A warhammer?" Arya said in awe. "So you're making one after your father's favorite weapon?" She asked.

Gendry frowned at her. "What do you mean by that?" He asked.

"Robert Baratheon's favorite weapon was a warhammer." Arya said. "He killed Rhaegar Targaryen with it in the Trident?"

Gendry looked at her blankly.

"You've never heard that story before?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No." He said. "I told you, I never knew my father. Or the things he'd done." He placed the warhammer on the ground.

Arya slid down the boulder she sat on and tossed the remains of the apple into the forge fire. She took the opportunity to actually wield a weapon Gendry had forged and placed her hand on the warhammer's shaft to lift it. Or at least, _tried_ to lift it, but somehow she can't.

Gendry laughed as he watched her trying to wield it.

"How in seven hells can you fight with this thing?" Arya asked. "It's too heavy." She complained. "I can't even lift it."

After several attempts, Arya gave up as it was too heavy for her to wield.

"Too heavy for you, maybe." Gendry said, then pulled the warhammer and wielded it with ease. "But just right for me."

"I'm not that strong like you are." Arya said.

Gendry raised an eyebrow at her. "You think I'm strong?" He smirked.

Arya could feel face turning red. "Shut up." She trailed her fingers on the warhammer and studied the little details of the weapon, while Gendry held it.

"Hmm, fine work as always." Arya smiled at him. "I don't have to sound surprised, do I?" She could see Gendry's face turn red at the compliment.

Then without knowing, they locked eyes. His blue eyes sparkled in the firelight. Strange, she hadn't notice how blue Gendry's eyes were until that moment.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat from behind them. They both straightened and turned to see Anguy, the archer with a huge grin and wide eyes standing before them.

"Anguy?" Arya said. "What is it?" She asked.

"I'm sorry, Prin—Milady," Anguy apologized. "But Lord Beric told me to inform you that the scouts he sent have returned. He wants you to hear what they have to say."

"Alright." Arya nodded, then turned back to Gendry.

Gendry waved his hand before her. "After you, princess." He said.

Arya's expression hardened and she punched him in the gut. "Don't call me that!" She said, and then went ahead. Gendry followed closely behind her.

. . .

Beric's scouts from the Blackwood stronghold had returned to Hollow Hill. As expected, they reported on every little detail, just like Arya had asked.

Lord Tytos Blackwood, five children and his entire household were kept in the dungeons after they rebelled against the Freys. Lannister and Frey banners hang from Raventree Hall's walls. The only way in and out the castle is through the drawbridge, which will need two people to operate. Sentry guards watch day and night at each of the castle's towers, with also guards patrolling in the ramparts every hour.

Lord Beric laid out the plan to retake Raventree Hall. The plan was to strike tonight when the castle sleeps, as Arya had once mentioned. That way, there'll be no witnesses. No man in his right mind would go outside his home after nightfall in the Riverlands because of the Wolfpack. In their case, they have the wolves on their side, and anyone stupid enough to wander will be as good as prey for the wolves.

Everything was going well, until someone questioned about what will happened if the dead bodies will be spotted and will inform the Freys and Lannisters about their attack.

"Leave the dead bodies to the wolves." Arya suggested. "They like fresh meat. And it'll spare us from having to bury the bodies."

" _Us?_ " The Hound repeated, then turned to Beric. "She's coming with us?" He asked.

"Of course, I'm coming." Arya said. "If you actually manage to free the Blackwoods, they won't follow or listen to you because you're a Clegane, a vassal house of the Lannisters from the Westerlands. Not to mention the Mountain's younger brother."

The Hound clearly didn't like the mention of his older brother. "And they'll follow you?" The Hound asked. "Don't make me laugh."

Before Arya can say anything, Beric answered. "Yes, they will." He said, much to everyone's surprise. "She has Tully blood. The Blackwoods are the Tully's most loyal bannermen. And since Lord Edmure is held captive, they'd follow someone else with Tully blood in their veins. The commoners would most likely rally to her than to me."

"Alright," The Hound said. "Bring the princess if you will, but I'm not going to stick around and watch over her during the attack."

"Don't worry, Clegane, you won't." Beric assured, then turned to Gendry. "Gendry, you need to stay with the princess at all costs." He ordered.

Gendry nodded in agreement.

"What?" Arya exclaimed. "I don't need to be protected, I have my direwolf Nymeria with me."

"I know, my lady," Beric said. "But it would make us feel better if we have an actual person close to you be your companion for the duration of the attack than a direwolf who only listens to you."

Arya shrugged. "Alright." She turned to Gendry, who gave her a smile. "Well, now I know I'm actually going to see you in action with that warhammer."


	16. The Incursion of Raventree Hall

By the hour of the wolf, they begin their attack.

Like most castles, Raventree Hall has high, ancient stone walls with moss climbing up them. Two huge, square towers flanked the gate with the drawbridge, as the only way in and out, and a square tower at each angle in the wall. It was also surrounded by a deep moat lined with stone. The castle also had a hoard, a temporary wooden shed-like construction that was built on the exterior of the ramparts of the castle. But of course, most of it had been destroyed now, since the castle was besieged by the Freys and the Lannisters.

The men of the Brotherhood are in position. Arya crouched behind a bush yards from castle with Gendry, Beric, Thoros, the Hound, and Anguy. Nymeria and about six wolves were with them. The rest of the Wolfpack were assigned with some members of the Brotherhood scattered surrounding the castle.

"Okay," Arya spoke up, breaking the silence. "I don't understand. Your men inside should've lowered the drawbridge by now. What's taking them so long?" She asked.

"This is why I never approved of bringing you along." The Hound complained.

"They won't move until we give the signal." Beric answered.

"Then give the bloody signal already." Arya said impatiently.

Beric turned to Thoros, who was holding an unlit torch. "Thoros, now."

Thoros nodded and ran to a clearing. He lit the torch ablaze and waved it in the air three times, then ran back to where he was hiding.

They all looked up back in the castle's battlements, and saw a lighted torch waved in air twice.

"They got the signal," Beric said. "Now all we have to do is wait."

"Wait for what?" Arya asked.

"For the drawbridge to be lowered." Gendry said. "And then we go in."

Sure enough, from where they were, they could hear steel clashing and faint screams of men from the castle's ramparts. Dead bodies have fallen off the stepped battlements and have hopefully been taken care of whatever creature was lurking beneath the waters of the moat.

A lighted torch was once again waved in the air thrice, in the same spot they saw earlier. The drawbridge was slowly being lowered. Thoros waved the torch he had twice.

"It's time." Beric said, turning to Arya.

Arya smiled, then turned to her direwolf. "Nymeria."

Nymeria howled. The other wolves later joined in. Since they agreed not to yell a battle cry to avoid nearby towns from knowing they were attacking. Arya had suggested to have wolves relay the signal for their assault for the rest of the Brotherhood hiding to know. Also, by the time the wolves starting howling, snow was starting to fall.

Beric shivered at the sound of howling. "Well, anyone hearing that would run and hide." He pointed out. "Come on!" He drew his sword and charged towards the half open drawbridge.

Drawing her sword Needle, Arya followed, with Gendry, Thoros, Anguy and Nymeria behind her.

Halfway to the drawbridge, Arya could see men of the Brotherhood tossing ropes with grappling hooks to the battlements and began escalading the castle's mossy walls. Most of them had clashed swords on the remaining wooden hoard, before knocking the sentries and archers on the ramparts and into the moat.

The drawbridge was still about five feet from actually touching the ground. Arya understood why two people have to man the entrance to the castle. One would lower the drawbridge and the other one would open up the portcullis. The heavy vertically-closing gate consisting of a latticed grille made of metal, which slides down furrow inset within each jamb of the gateway.

Nymeria and her Wolfpack leaped from the ground and onto the wooden deck, attacking the men that emerged charging from the castle.

In their case, they're still waiting for the drawbridge to touch the ground since it was too high to climb.

Anguy set the tip of his arrows ablaze with Thoros' torch and fired. The arrow flew high into the air and made its mark on the Frey banner hanging by the wall of the right square tower flanking the gates. He did the same to the Lannister banner on the left square tower. Men that made past the wolves jumped from the lowering drawbridge and attacked them.

Beric, Thoros and the Hound began clashing their swords with the foot soldiers. Gendry swung his warhammer and kicked a Lannister soldier into the moat. Arya stabbed a Frey soldier in his neck with Needle.

Finally, the drawbridge touched the ground flattening few dead bodies. Crossing the wooden deck, Arya glanced up the battlements and realized there were no sentry guards and archers anymore. They're now relying on the foot soldiers to defend the castle. _The plan is going well_ , she thought. Now, they just have to find the Blackwoods.

More wolves and men joined them as they crossed the wooden deck. A Frey soldier charged towards them, but Gendry was there. He swung his warhammer and the man fell off the drawbridge and into the moat.

They passed the portcullis in time to see Harwin stabbed a Lannister foot soldier in the chest, and then have few wolves storm the man he just killed.

"Harwin," Beric called.

"Lord Beric," Harwin replied, then bowed at her. "Princess, that was quite an entrance."

"Where are the Blackwoods?" Arya asked.

"Down in the dungeons, milady." Harwin said. "It's right this way." He gestured for them to follow him.

Beric turned to Thoros and the Hound. "Thoros, Clegane, secure the castle," He ordered.

"And pile the dead bodies in the courtyard after." Arya added.

Thoros nodded and handed the torch to Harwin. The red priest and the Hound then charged forward into the carnage.

Arya, Gendry and Beric followed Harwin as they walked pass the battle-engrossed courtyard. Nymeria had caught up with them and walked beside Arya and about a dozen wolves followed them.

The snow that covered the ground can hardly be visible from all the blood and the littered dead bodies everywhere. Something caught her attention halfway into the castle's keep. Seeing it reminded her of Winterfell's godswood. A huge Weirwood tree stood in the left side of the entire courtyard. Except, it had no leaves but it had ravens, more than she could count, perched on its branches.

Arya stopped at her tracks, which made Gendry bumped into her. "Is that an actual Weirwood tree?" She asked.

Gendry frowned. "What?" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to follow Harwin and Beric. "I'd worry about that later. Right now, we need to find the Blackwoods."

Harwin led them to a series of tunnels to the dungeons that Arya lost track of where they were.

"We're here." Harwin said.

The dungeons were only lit by torches on the walls. It was sort of similar to the Red Keep's dungeons in King's landing, only it had lower ceilings and it had no dragon skulls and it was much, much darker.

About eight guards stood before them with their swords drawn, but they never charged. Judging by the sigil of twin towers on their surcoats, the soldiers were Frey men.

Gendry and Beric were about to charge, but she held an arm before them. They both turned to her in surprise.

"I think we should let the Wolfpack handle them." Arya said. She turned to Nymeria, who went to stand beside her. "Go get them, girl."

When they saw the direwolf, they shrieked in horror. Some of them dropped their weapons.

Nymeria growled and charged. The dozen wolves with them followed her. They screamed in agony wolves tore them apart.

Arya turned back to Harwin. "Where are they?" She asked.

"In the last cell block, milady." Harwin replied. "Lord Tytos and his five children. The other prisoners are the rest of his household, sworn knights, and soldiers."

After the wolves had feasted, Arya took the torch from Harwin and glanced at the people locked in the cells. Nymeria walked by her side whose her mouth was still stained with blood, which made the prisoners whimper inside their cells.

When she reached the end, where the last cell was, Arya held the torch higher and called out. "Lord Tytos."

A bearded man with a hook nose and salt and pepper hair in ragged raven-feathered cloak shoved his other five companions behind him and approached the cell bars.

"Yes," He replied.

Arya leaned in closer and studied him.

Just as Tytos Blackwood had a look of her face, he gasped and stepped backward.

"Father," A young man gripped Tytos' arm, probably one of his sons. "What is it?" He asked.

"It's the ghost of _Lyanna Stark!"_ Tytos wailed.

"Wait, what?!" Arya exclaimed. "I'm not a ghost!" She shook her head in annoyance and turned to Beric, who was only a few paces from her. "Do I really look like my aunt Lyanna?" She asked.

Beric nodded. "Yes."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Why don't you talk to them?" She suggested. "They'll probably feel better talking to a man with one eye than a _ghost_."

Beric reluctantly approached the cell. "Lord Tytos." He called.

"Who are you?" Tytos demanded. "What do you want?"

"I'm Beric Dondarrion." Beric introduced himself. "We—"

"The leader of the Brotherhood Without Banners." Another of Tytos' sons spoke up.

Beric nodded. "We came to get you out."

Tytos motioned his head towards Arya's direction. "Who's the girl?" He asked.

Beric gave her a quick glance and turned back to the imprisoned lord. "The girl is Arya Stark of Winterfell." He said. "Surely, that rings a bell."

If it was possible, Tytos Blackwood turned paler.

"Who's that?" One of his younger sons asked.

"Robb Stark's sister." Tytos said, then started to notice the direwolf at Arya's side. That was probably enough to convince him that she was indeed Robb's sister. He bowed on his knees. "Princess."

His sons and daughter were dumbfounded but followed their father's example and knelt.

"Don't call me _princess_." Arya insisted.

"My apologies, my lady." Tytos apologized. "It's just…from the reports we heard from King Robb, you were dead. After the Red Wedding, we thought all the Starks were dead."

"Well, let's just say," Arya said. "That the wolves of the North were merely licking their wounds and had risen back up again because winter is already here. But first, we need to get you out of there." She then gestured for Gendry to break the locks.

With one swing of his warhammer, Gendry freed the Blackwoods from their cell.

Lord Tytos also insisted that the rest of his household be released from their cells. They managed to free everyone but all were unarmed except for Arya, Gendry, Beric and Harwin for the battle above them.

They managed to get out of the dungeons. When they got out into the courtyard, snow was still falling, which surprised the Blackwoods.

Bethany Blackwood, Tytos' only daughter, who looked about Bran's age, spoke up. "It's already winter?" She said. "How long have we been in the dungeons?" She asked.

"Too long, I'm afraid, dear sister." The eldest son, Brynden said.

The carnage was over. Dead bodies were being dragged and piled up in the courtyard. A few of the wolves were already feasting on the fresh meat.

Arya turned to Nymeria. "Well, I think you deserve this, girl." She said, patting her pelt. "Go on."

Nymeria howled, and went on to her pack on the feasting of meat. Several other wolves joined the direwolf, which made the Blackwoods gasped.

"Is that the Wolfpack we've been hearing about?" Tytos asked.

Arya nodded. "They're not as vicious as you think, my lord." She said. "Well, unless you do something that'll anger them, then you'll see their wrath."

Smudged and burnt Frey and Lannister banners were piled not far from the dead bodies. Thoros and the Hound were carrying some to add to the pile.

Thoros approached them. "The castle is secured," He reported. "Raventree Hall is yours, Lord Blackwood."


	17. The Blackwoods of Raventree Hall

The following morning, they gathered in the great hall to break their fast. The men of the Brotherhood sat in tables long tables with Blackwood soldiers.

Arya sat with Lord Tytos Blackwood and his five children by the long table on a raised dais at the end of the great hall. The rest of them namely: the men of the Brotherhood, the rest of the Blackwood household, the soldiers and servants ate with them by the many long tables in the great hall.

Tytos Blackwood sat at the center. To his right, were his three oldest sons, Brynden, Hoster, and Edmund. To his right, sat his youngest son, Alyn, who was probably just a year older than Arya. Next to him was Arya, and then Bethany, Tytos' youngest child and only daughter.

Arya obviously didn't want to sit on the high table, but Lord Tytos had insisted, stating that she's a princess, an honored guest, and the one who had liberated them from the Freys and the Lannisters. But he had refused to let the direwolf to even sit by Arya's foot the entire meal. Arya, with respect to their host, reluctantly led Nymeria out in the godswood with the rest of the Wolfpack.

To Gendry, that seemed fair enough, but what bothered him were Alyn Blackwood's gestures towards Arya. He would always lean towards her and always get too close to the point that he's invading her personal space, in a similar way Edric Dayne used to do. Now, he remembered why he never liked that lord of Starfall.

Gendry glanced at the high table. Arya had just shut off Alyn from whatever he was going to say. She just rolled her eyes in annoyance and managed to look his way.

Arya smiled and waved at him. Then her next facial expression clearly said like, _please get me out of here._

Gendry simply snorted and shrugged. _I can't do anything. Sorry._ He seemed to say.

At the same moment, Beric, who was sitting next to him, and Thoros and the Hound across from them, caught him staring. They all had their eyebrows raised at him.

"What?" Gendry asked in confusion.

The Hound turned to Beric. "I told you before," He said, taking a bite from a chicken leg. "He had some affection for her. You never listened to me."

"What?" He shrieked. "No, I don't!" Gendry said in defense.

Thoros jabbed a finger at him. "Don't lie to us boy," He spoke up. "We're not blind!" He drank from his tankard.

"Well," Beric said. "You're not the first Baratheon boy who took a liking to a Stark girl."

"I'm not a Baratheon!" Gendry corrected.

"Please," Beric smirked. "Don't change the subject." He elbowed him teasingly. "You like her."

"She's my friend!" Gendry insisted. "Nothing more."

"We're not saying in what way, boy," Beric pointed out. "Maybe you don't even know it yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it."

"Aye," The Hound agreed. "No one stares at a girl that long with a smile on his face." He added.

At that point, Gendry felt his face turn red from embarrassment.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Gendry," Beric assured. "It's normal."

 _It may be normal_ , Gendry thought. But it's not going to happen. She's a highborn lady, a princess, and he was just a lowborn bastard.

. . .

After the briefing, Arya went to the godswood and stood before the colossal Weirwood tree. The sun shone the same way it mostly does in the North, which meant the winds have gone colder and snow had fallen. _Winter is here._

Arya had donned her dark blue cloak and pulled the hood over her head to keep the snow from piling on her scalp. Her direwolf Nymeria went and stood next to her and nuzzled her palm. Arya patted her head in return.

The Weirwood tree had no leaves. Lord Tytos said that the tree was dead and that Weirwoods never rot. He also told her that Brackens had poisoned the tree for several reasons she couldn't remember.

She did remember the Weirwood tree in Winterfell's godswood. Her father would sit on one of its roots and polish their ancestral sword, Ice on the shade of its white branches and red leaves. She and her brother Bran would chase each other around, climb the tree and scare the living daylights out of Sansa everytime their older sister comes to the godswood.

The memory made her smile. Knowing that Jon and Sansa are at Winterfell, just made her more determine to succeed and return home. Wherever Bran or Rickon were, she hoped they were alright.

Arya was so lost in thought, she hadn't notice Gendry approach her.

"Hey," He said.

"Oh, hey." Arya smiled at him, then turned her attention back to the tree.

"Sorry to disturb you," Gendry apologized. "Are you praying?" He asked.

Arya shook her head, keeping her eyes on the tree. "I stopped praying when I left Winterfell." She said. "It won't do any good anyway."

Gendry snorted. "You need to cheer up, princess." He said.

Arya glared at him. "How many times do I have to say it? Don't call me that!" She said.

"As my _princess_ commands." Gendry addressed, bowing to her.

Arya glared at him. She shoved him back and he tripped in one of Weirwood tree's roots. He fell on his back to the ground, laughing.

She turned to leave when Gendry threw a fist size ball of snow at her, hitting right on her shoulder.

Arya turned back to him. "You did not just do that." She said.

Gendry smiled mischievously and threw another snowball at her. Arya moved out of the way, narrowly missing it.

"Alright," Arya said, knelt and scooped and handful of snow in her hands. "It's on, _Waters_." She approached him, grabbed him by his collar and stuffed snow into his shirt, which made him shriek due to the cold.

"Arya!" He screamed.

Arya stood, looking very pleased with herself. She was about to leave but Gendry caught her arm and yanked her down with him. Gendry had gotten stronger over the years, but she had also gotten quicker too. Everytime he'd grab hold of her, she'd wiggle free and shove snow in his face. They rolled across the snow in doing so, until she was able to overpower him.

Arya was on top of him with her elbow on his throat and her freehand holding a snowball. "I win." She declared.

"Not quite," Gendry said, then flipped them over. Now he was on top of her, and he was able to grab hold of her hand with the snowball. "Now, I win."

She tried to free herself but he was too strong.

Gendry was about to hurl snow at her when someone cleared their throat not far from them.

They both turned to see Beric Dondarrion staring at them with wide eyes. "What are you both doing?" He asked suspiciously.

Gendry got off her and stood. He offered his hand to help her. Arya took it and he hoist her up. They then rubbed the snow off their clothes.

"What is it, Lord Beric?" Arya asked.

"Lord Tytos would want a word, princess." He said.

. . .

Lord Tytos invited Arya to his solar. But she insisted that at least few men from the Brotherhood should join them if they are to discuss something regarding Edmure Tully. So reluctantly, Beric, Thoros, the Hound and Gendry went up to the castle's solar with her.

The Blackwoods' solar was large and airy, with great beams of dark oak supporting the ceiling. Fire was burning in the hearth when they entered. Wool tapestries adorn its walls, while latticework doors with panes of diamond-shaped yellow glass overlook the colossal Weirwood tree on the courtyard.

Lord Tytos sat at the head of the table. To his right sat his four sons. Beric sat to his left. Arya sat next to him; then Gendry, who insisted that he should sit next to her, which she suspected was to keep Alyn Blackwood from giving her strange looks; next to him was Thoros, who always seem to have his tankard of ale wherever he goes; and then Sandor Clegane, the Hound, who was cleaning his nails with Thoros' dagger.

"Lord Tytos," Beric started. "I would just like to say thank you for welcoming us into your humble home."

"It's our way of showing gratitude to the people who liberated us from those power hungry lions." Lord Tytos said.

"We wouldn't have done it, if it weren't for the princess." Beric brought up, glancing at her. "It was her who convinced us to free you from the Freys and the Lannisters' grasp."

Tytos turned to the princess in disbelief. "Well, I'm afraid there's more to you that we haven't seen, princess—"

"Don't call me _princess_!" Arya interrupted.

"I'm sorry, my lady," Tytos apologized. "We had hoped that someone will come, but I hadn't expected it to be you." He said. "If you're here for our swords, you already have it. As it has always been since your brother came to the Riverlands."

Arya smiled. "Winter is here." She said. "And if we are to survive, we will need each other's help."

"The Freys are doing a terrible job running the Riverlands," Beric implied. "There's no denying that. They simply took the title as the great house in the Riverlands from the Tullys after the Red Wedding. And they've kept Edmure Tully, your liege lord, a prisoner in the Twins."

Lord Tytos smirked. "And you want us to help you rescue him?" He speculated.

"And see him safely return to Riverrun, yes." Arya finished.

The eldest son, Brynden, shook his head. "My lady, if I may, even with all our men, we cannot capture both the Twins and Riverrun at the same time." He said. "We would have to storm one castle at a time. And that would definitely catch the attention of the Lannisters in the capital. They'll send an army to before we even retake the other one. And for sure, they'll besiege Raventree again and probably have us all killed for treason."

"That's why we need your help to _get_ more help." Arya said, which made them exchange confused looks. "You're not the only house who rebelled against the Freys, you know. We need the Mallisters of Seagard."

"Of course," The second eldest, Hoster blurted out. "Lord Jason would never surrender Seagard—"

"But he did," Beric interrupted. "When that bastard Black Walder threatened to hang his son, Patrek at the gates of Seagard."

"It doesn't matter." Arya said. "That bastard is dead. Lothar Frey is dead. Walder Frey is dead. Stevron Frey is Lord of the Twins."

Beric frowned. "How'd you know his sons are dead?" He asked.

Arya was silent for a moment. _I killed them._ She thought, though she did not dare say it out loud. "You hear lots of stories when you travel in disguise." She said. "Some are exaggerated though, but they're quite interesting."

Beric glanced at her suspiciously. "Nevertheless, according to my scouts, Lord Jason and his son, Patrek are prisoners in their own home. The same way you were, Lord Tytos." He reported.

"Seagard will be difficult to besiege." Lord Tytos said. "If we do it by land, we'll have to pass the town. If by sea, we'll be spotted immediately. Seagard was built there to keep the Ironborn from invading the Riverlands."

"But it doesn't have to be a siege." Arya brought up. "We'll take it the same way we took Raventree Hall. Strike at night when the castle sleeps."

"At night?" Alyn Blackwood repeated with a shriek. "But princess—"

Arya raised her hand. "If you're worried about the Wolfpack, don't worry," She assured. "They're on our side. And they happened to be more active at night."

"Is that why you attacked at night?" Edmund Blackwood asked. "So there'll be no witnesses?"

Arya nodded. "No man in his right mind would dare wander at night," She reminded them. "Especially in the Riverlands."

Lord Tytos considered it, and then spoke up. "There's always a first time for everything." He said. "We'll take Seagard. We have to. Or else none of us will survive in this winter."

"How?" Brynden asked. "Seagard is probably held by both Frey and Lannister soldiers." He said.

Arya turned to Beric. "Lord Beric," She nodded.

Beric took a deep breath. "We're only going to succeed if we work together." He said and then laid out the plan. His scouts had reported every detail.

Seagard was different from Raventree Hall. There is no moat but to get into the Mallister stronghold, but you'd have to pass the high stone walls of the town. The castle was at the edge of the town nestled on a cliff overlooking Ironman's Bay. It was similar to that of King's Landing, but much, much smaller.

Lannister and Frey banners hang from Seagard's walls the same way it did in Raventree Hall. And since the castle is by the coast, it naturally has a sally port, heavily guarded of course. Sentry guards watch day and night at each of the castle's towers and town's high walls.

Seeing that there are different ways through Seagard, they would have to divide their forces. Lord Tytos volunteered to strike through the high walls and gates which meant going by sea, goes to the Brotherhood.

"Wait," The Hound spoke up. "How are we gonna attack by sea? We don't have a fleet."

"We're not going to be at sea, Clegane," Beric said. "Just the shoreline through the castle's sally port."

"Sally port?" Arya repeated. "Like the one in King's Landing?" She asked.

Beric nodded. "Yes," He said. "Most castles built by the coast have it." He frowned. "How did you know?" He asked.

"I sort of got lost exploring the Red Keep once." Arya admitted. "And that's how I ended up in Flea Bottom."

"We've got men inside Seagard," Beric continued. "All we've got to do is signal them that we're in position. I'll go with Lord Tytos."

"What?" Arya asked as if she'd misheard.

"Thoros will go with you, princess." Beric assured. "You'll go through the sally port, Jack-Be-Lucky would be there. He'll lead you to the Mallisters. And my men wouldn't recognize Lord Tytos if I don't go with them."

"The princess is coming with us?" Lord Tytos asked, turning to her. "It's not safe, my lady. It's best if you stay here." He suggested.

"But I must." Arya insisted. "I need to convince Lord Mallister to help us free my uncle. And you need the wolves. They only follow my direwolf. Without me, Nymeria's not going anywhere. You need me out there."

Lord Tytos pondered this. "Very well, then." He turned to one of his sons. "Ben, you go with the princess." He ordered. "Brynden and Hoster will go with me."

Tytos' three oldest sons nodded in agreement. The youngest, Alyn grimaced. "What about me?" He asked.

"You'll remain here at Raventree Hall." Lord Tytos said.

"But father, I—" Alyn started to say.

"You'll hold Raventree Hall in my place, while I go with your brothers to liberate Seagard." Lord Tytos explained. "And you need to watch over your sister."

Alyn nodded reluctantly.

"Well, it's settled then." Lord Tytos said. "We'll strike tonight."


	18. The Liberation of Seagard

_"_ _When you hear the howling of the wolves,"_ Arya said, before their forces had to split up. _"You know what to do."_ Like the last time, they're using the wolves as their signal to attack.

Seagard is a town and a castle in the northern Riverlands. The castle of Seagard was built to defend the coast from the Ironborn. The town's tallest tower, called the Booming Tower was used to call the townsfolk and others into the safety of the castle when longships are sighted.

Lord Tytos Blackwood, with Beric Dondarrion, the Hound and his two eldest sons, Brynden and Hoster, will storm Seagard by its high stone walls. While Arya, with Thoros, Gendry, and Edmund Blackwood, will enter the castle through its sally port.

They hid behind some boulders and rock formations by the shore while waiting for Thoros to return. Edmund and Gendry had their weapons in hand. The other men with them carried more than one sword with them, the spares are to be given to the prisoners they were going to free in the dungeons. That was the mistake they had made while retaking Raventree Hall, storming in without spare weapons.

Thoros watched out for a torch waved twice in the ramparts, to know that the men inside had taken care of the sentries and archers. Not a moment later, he returned and crouched beside them. "It's time, princess." He said.

Arya turned to her direwolf and nodded.

Nymeria howled, and the other wolves joined in.

Beside her, Edmund shivered at the howling wolves. "That is definitely creepy," He said. "No wonder everyone hearing it would run the other way."

"Come on!" Thoros said, charging ahead.

"How do you know the way?" Arya asked.

"I fought in the Greyjoy's rebellion." Thoros explained. "Seagard was the first castle they tried to take. Jason Mallister slew Rodrik Greyjoy in this very castle, drawing the Ironborn back into the sea. Then we sailed from here to Pyke."

Faint screams and swords clashing can be heard as they approached the castle walls. They reached a portion of the castle's wall that was out near the violent tides. Arya thought it was the sally port Beric' scouts were talking about, but it was actually just a blind arch doorway.

"What is this?" Arya asked. "I thought you said there was a sally port in here."

"This _is_ the sally port, princess," Thoros said.

Arya rapped her knuckles on the blind archway. "It's a stone wall." She said. "How are we going to get in?" She asked impatiently.

Thoros tapped the hilt of his sword on the blind stone arch doorway like some kind of sound pattern. Sure enough, the same kind of sound pattern can be heard from the other side of the blind arch doorway, like an answering tap.

Slowly, the blind stone archway rose with a sound of creaking metal. As it rose up, she could see the vertical grooves inset within each jamb of the gateway. It took Arya a moment to realize that the sally port was a portcullis was disguised to look as a blind arch doorway to trick enemies.

As portcullis was halfway up, they went in and spotted two Frey soldiers. One had a sword in hand, the other was manning the internal winch.

Gendry gripped his warhammer and started to swing it at the guards.

"Wait! Wait!" The Frey guard with the sword said. "It's me!" He tossed off his helm, revealing an eye patch covering one eye and crooked teeth. "Careful who you swing with that weapon of yours, boy." He said.

"Jack-Be-Lucky," Gendry lowered his warhammer, then pointed to the one manning the winch. "Who's this?" He asked.

"It's Likely Luke." Jack answered.

Luke was definitely trying to open it all the way up, but couldn't. As the rest of the men and wolves managed to enter, Luke released the winch and the portcullis slid back down with a loud thud.

"This thing is corroded." Luke complained. "It definitely needs oil."

"Of course, it's corroding," Thoros said. "It probably hadn't been used since the Greyjoy Rebellion."

"Alright, Jack," Arya spoke up. "Where are they?" She asked.

"The Lords Jason and Patrek Mallister are kept in the lowest levels of the dungeons, princess." Jack said. "Right this way." He gestured for them to follow him.

Thoros muttered a prayer to his Lord of light, then cut himself with the edge of his sword blade. Suddenly, his sword went ablaze in the dark hallway.

Arya was glad the Hound wasn't with them, or he might have screamed like a little girl the same way she heard him when he and Beric were on a trial by combat. And Beric was wise enough to not assign the Hound go to with Thoros.

Jack-Be-Lucky and Likely Luke lead the way, followed by Arya with her direwolf Nymeria and Thoros with his flaming sword. Behind them, were Gendry and Edmund, and the rest of the men.

They went through a series of tunnels that it was impossible for Arya to tell where they were or to find their way up the surface.

Once they reached the lowest level, the hallway was packed with a dozen Lannister men all with swords in hand. At first, they were all ready to engage them. But when they saw the direwolves, they halted.

The men of the Brotherhood started to charge, but Arya held out her arms which made them halt. "I'll handle this." She promised.

Arya stepped forward drawing Needle, but Gendry pulled her wrist.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Just trust me." She shook from his grip and continued on forward.

Since the dungeon hallways were dimly lit, they could barely see each other. The nearest two Lannister men charged.

Arya deflected the soldier's blade with Needle. She then pulled her dagger and slit his throat open. The other swung his sword sideways. Arya easily ducked and stabbed the soldier in his stomach, then pierced Needle through his neck. Both soldiers dropped to the floor.

The others were having second thoughts in charging. She stepped forward near a torch, enough to illuminate her face.

The Lannister men eyes widened in surprise upon seeing that a girl took down two men. Nymeria came to her side, and sniffed the corpses at her feet. The rest of the wolves that came with them followed. The soldiers shrieked in horror as they saw the wolves.

Arya caressed Nymeria's pelt, with the back of her hand holding the bloody dagger. _"Eat."_ She said.

Nymeria flaunted her fangs, growled and then charged. The wolves with them followed her. They screamed in agony as the wolves tore them apart.

Arya turned back to her companions and they all stared at her in astonishment. She shrugged. "What?" Arya asked. "You've never seen a girl fight before?"

Surprisingly, it was Edmund Blackwood who answered. "No, my lady."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Alright, back to rescuing. Where are they?" She asked.

Jack-Be-Lucky pointed three cell blocks from their current position. Thoros was the first to regain his composure and led the way ahead, using his flaming sword as a torch.

"Lord Mallister," Thoros called out. "You in here?" He asked.

Two figures shifted in the dark. A man with brown hair mixed with grey, a chiseled face and fierce blue-grey eyes stepped into the light and frowned at them.

"Thoros of Myr." He said.

Thoros grinned. "Glad you still remember me, Lord Jason."

"Of course, I do." Lord Jason said. "Who else would wield a flaming sword."

Edmund stood beside Arya and peered into the dark where Lord Jason's son, Patrek Mallister, stayed hidden.

Lord Jason turned to Edmund. "Edmund?" He said. "What are you doing here?"

Patrek Mallister came into the light. "Ben?" He called out to Edmund. "Is that you?"

Edmund nodded. "We came to get you out."

The Mallisters then turned their attention to Arya, then to the wolves. Lord Jason gasped in surprise.

Thoros held out her hand to calm him down. "Lord Jason, I assure you she's no ghost." He said.

Arya came forward. "I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell." She introduced herself. "And we're getting you out of here."

Lord Jason and Patrek exchanged glances, then both bowed.

"Princess." Lord Jason addressed, then smiled.

Arya sighed in annoyance. "Will everyone ever stop calling me _princess_?" She complained.

"I'm sorry, my lady." Lord Jason apologized, then smiled. "House Stark is not extinct."

Arya shook her head. "No, it isn't." She agreed. "Now, let's get you out of there." She then gestured for Gendry to break the locks and with one swing of his warhammer, he freed the Mallisters from their cell.

While Gendry broke the locks to free the rest of Jason Mallister's household, there was sudden loud sound of a bell ringing in warning.

"What's that?" Arya asked.

"The bell from the Booming tower." Patrek answered.

Thoros smirked. "If I remember it right, it hadn't ringed since the Greyjoy rebellion."

Lord Jason nodded. "Aye, it was that long." He then glanced at the wolves that came with them. "Is this the famous Wolfpack we kept hearing about?" He asked.

"It is, my lord." Arya confirmed. "Well, part of it. The rest are with up above, helping retake your castle."

Edmund handed Lord Jason and Patrek the spare swords that they carried. "The fighting is still not over." He said. "And we need every hand who can swing a sword to help."

Lord Jason nodded. "Well then, what are we waiting for?" He said.

They made their way out of the dungeons, and just as they reached the surface, the bell from the booming tower's urgent ringing stopped. They got out into the courtyard where the carnage was still happening.

The Blackwoods and the rest of the Brotherhood had just entered the castle's courtyard, swinging their swords to fend off the remaining Frey and Lannister soldiers. After that, the corpses were being dragged and piled up in the courtyard. The wolves then feasted on the fresh meat.

"Lord Tytos," Arya called as she made her way towards him. Lord Tytos and his sons' hands were bloody from all the fighting and their faces had sprinkles of it. Hoster Blackwood had a gash on his chin but he seemed alright.

Lord Jason and Patrek followed her.

"Tytos," Lord Jason nodded recognizing Tytos Blackwood and his sons. "I must thank you for liberating Seagard and its people from the Frey and Lannister clutches.

Lord Tytos gave a sideways smile. "Jason." He nodded. "We're only a part of this." He gestured to Arya. "It's the princess that convinced us to retake Seagard."

Just then, Beric and the Hound got out of the keep.

Beric turned to Lord Jason. "The castle is secured, my lord." Beric announced. "Seagard is yours."

 **Since it's Christmas, I'll be posting two chapters tommorow. Happy holidays! :D**


	19. The Night Wolf

In the morning, they all gathered in the great hall for a meal. The men of the Brotherhood sat in long tables with Blackwood and Mallister soldiers.

Arya sat with their host Lord Jason Mallister and his son Patrek by the long table on a raised dais at the end of the great hall.

Tytos Blackwood and his three sons, Brynden, Hoster and Edmund sat with the Blackwood soldiers, the men of the Brotherhood, the Mallister household, soldiers and servants and ate with them by the many long tables in the great hall.

After the meal, Lord Tytos brought up the matter on how to get Edmure Tully out of the Twins.

"The bell from that Booming tower rang a warning tone," Lord Tytos pointed out. "They might have heard it."

Arya turned to Lord Jason. "Can that bell actually be heard all the way up to the Twins?" She asked.

Lord Jason nodded. "The Twins is only about twenty leagues from here." He said. "But if they did hear it, they might've sent back up. But they didn't."

"So what if they heard it?" Arya said. "It doesn't matter."

"If we're going to get your uncle out of there, we'd worry about." Lord Tytos said. "If they hadn't sent an army to Seagard, they might've already doubled their defenses."

"They don't even know that, Tytos." Lord Jason said.

"The other thing is," Lord Tytos turned to Arya. "If we're getting Lord Edmure out, what about his son and wife? Everyone knows he married that Frey girl in your brother's place."

"Yes, and that's why they slaughtered everyone." Arya remembered.

"Walder Frey always exact heavy tolls." Patrek brought up. "If remember it right, Lady Catelyn arranged two marriages with the Freys for her children."

Arya frowned. "I didn't know that." She said. "What do you mean, Lord Patrek?" She asked.

"Robb was to marry a Frey girl," Patrek recalled. "And…you were to marry a Frey boy when you come of age."

Arya took a deep breath. Even if her mother hadn't seen her in moons, she still managed to find her a match. To a boy she doesn't even know. She tried not to think about it.

"Alright, moving on," Arya evaded the subject. "Uncle Edmure's son is heir. We need to get him out as well. Question is, how?" She asked.

"I've got a thought about that." Patrek said. He gestured one of the servants to him and gave him a piece of fabric. "If you want to find Lord Edmure's son, you'll have to find Lady Roslin first."

Beric frowned. "How do we find Lady Roslin?" He asked.

Patrek turned to Arya. "I would assume your wolves can pick up a scent, my lady?" He asked.

"Of course, they can." Arya confirmed.

Patrek handed Arya the fabric. "Give it to the wolves." He said.

"Wait," Beric interrupted. "How do we know that piece of fabric will lead us to Roslin Frey?" He asked.

"It belonged to her." Patrek answered.

"How do you even know it's hers?" Arya asked.

"Because I tore it off her gown during their bedding ceremony." Patrek explained. "And if I remember it right, I was thrown into a cell next to Edmure's. Assuming they hadn't moved him, I can lead you to him." He promised.

"If we get Lord Edmure out of there," Lord Tytos spoke up. "Where would he go after?" He asked.

Arya shrugged. "To Riverrun, of course." She said.

"But princess—" Lord Jason started to say.

"I know," Arya interrupted. "It's still under the Frey's control. That's why we need to storm both Riverrun and the Twins on the same night."

Everyone started talking at the same time.

"It's going to be impossible." Lord Jason said.

"If you're worried about our numbers—" Arya started to say.

"I'm not worried about our princess," Lord Jason said. "We have a great many now, thanks to you. Plus, we have the Wolfpack with us, which is feared across the Riverlands. It's their defenses I'm worried about."

"We stormed Raventree Hall with only thirty men and the Wolfpack." Beric brought up. "Their defenses didn't matter. If you want to survive this winter, you will need Edmure Tully to guide you not the Freys."

"Well, they should be stripped off their titles for betraying two great houses, if you ask me." Patrek said.

"Exactly," Arya rose from her seat. "You tried to do something about it. For that, I'm grateful. I would say _The North remembers_ , but you're not Northmen. You served House Tully well enough you adapted some of their words." She said loud enough for everyone to hear. " _Family, Duty, Honor._ Did they care what will happen to you when you refused to bow down to the Freys after the Red wedding? _No._ They held a siege outside your walls. And when you tried to rise against them, they took your sons as leverages and imprisoned you and your entire household in your own castle." She shrugged. "Now is not time to give up. Winter is here, and we need to work together to take them down!"

"We're with you, princess." Beric said. "The Brotherhood. Always."

Lord Tytos stood. "We were prisoners in our own home then, until your brother came." He said. "Robb Stark, the young wolf, and the King in the North. Then after the Red wedding, we were once again prisoners, until _you_ came. We owe you our lives, my lady. And will stand behind the Houses Tully and Stark as we have since Robb Stark came to the Riverlands." He pulled out his sword. "Now, I'll swear for the King in the North, through you, Arya Stark, _the Night Wolf_ ," He knelt and lay his sword before her. _"Princess in the North, the Vale, and the Trident."_

Arya's eyes widened. _The Night Wolf._ Surprisingly, that's how she called herself while she's having wolf dreams.

"Tytos is right." Lord Jason went to stand beside a kneeling Tytos Blackwood. "We owe our lives to you. We will break faith today!" He said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "She is Arya Stark, the Night Wolf. Princess in the North, the Vale, and the Trident!" He drew his sword and laid it at her feet.

Everyone repeated the words and laid their swords before her.

. . .

After that, they settled in Jason Malister's solar for the briefing for their attack.

"We need to divide forces if we are to be successful." Arya suggested.

Lord Jason frowned at her and shifted in his seat. "How do you know so much about war tactics?" He asked suspiciously.

 _I trained with the Faceless Men in Braavos,_ she thought. But she didn't say that out loud, instead she said, "I was cupbearer to Tywin Lannister in Harrenhal."

It made Lord Jason's scowl deepened. "I beg your pardon?" He asked as if he'd misheard. "Did you say Tywin Lannister?"

Arya nodded. "It's a long story." She said. "On a quicker version, I had to be in disguise to get out of King's Landing. On the way North, we were captured by Amory Lorch's party and were taken as prisoners to Harrenhal. Tywin found out I was a girl, so he took me as his cupbearer. I served him wine and ready the food on his table, all while he was planning how to attack against my brother."

It was technically a lie. Arya did learn a few from her time serving Tywin Lannister, but mostly she learned about tactics from her time working with Faceless Men. Study the target. Evaluate their strengths and weaknesses, and find the quickest and cleanest way to kill them.

"Disguised, huh?" Patrek repeated. "Tywin Lannister actually planned to attack King Robb with his sister in the same room. If he would've known you were Arya Stark, he would've killed you. And plaster your body somewhere to torment your brother."

"But I don't have that problem then," Arya admitted. "People barely recognized me. Now, when people look at me, they see a ghost. Plus, with the wolves travelling with me, there's nothing more like inflicting fear."

"How did you escape Harrenhal?" Lord Tytos asked.

It was another complicated story, regarding the faceless assassin, Jaqen H'gar. "We escaped at night, sneaking past the guards."

Again, not technically a lie. They did sneak past the guards. Guards that Jaqen H'gar had killed for them to escape.

After a few moments, Lord Tytos spoke up. "We'll retake Riverrun." He volunteered. "Lord Beric mentioned having scouts there. We'll storm it the same way you did with Raventree. Have my men escalade the castle walls with ropes and grappling hooks."

"And we'll rescue Lord Edmure, his wife and son from the Twins." Lord Jason said.

"How?" Lord Tytos asked. "There are two castles. The other one you have to cross the Green Fork."

"The Brotherhood has men inside." Arya said.

"I will find Roslin Frey and their son," Lord Jason said. "Patrek will lead you to Lord Edmure. But what happens to the Freys after we get the Tullys out?" He asked.

"Truthfully, I don't really care what happens to them or the castle." Arya admitted. "I just want my uncle out of the Twins and back where he belongs, at Riverrun."

"Surely, they'll rise again and take revenge." Lord Jason said. "We should do something."

"I don't know," Arya said. "Sack it, ravage it, burn it to the ground for all I care!"


	20. More Good News

Bran's greendreams haunted him again. Ever since, returning from beyond the Wall, his greendreams were frequent whenever he slept. Now, while napping and riding home to Winterfell, his visions swept by a millisecond fast.

He saw armored men in a swordfight. Their chestplates had different sigils engrave on it, which meant they were soldiers from different houses. He was able to identify the houses due to his lessons with Maester Luwin. They were either: a soaring eagle, _House_ _Mallister_ ; a flock of ravens surrounding a Weirwood tree with no leaves, _House_ _Blackwood_ ; and two stone towers united by a bridge, the sigil of _House Frey_.

The scene changed. Now, he saw two men: a young man with a warhammer and a man in red cloak with a flaming sword running through a series of tunnels.

 _Burn it to the ground for all I care!_ Bran heard a voice as the images flashed.

Then he saw castle towers burning in the dark night. A bridge connecting it collapsed into the river below as people crossed to the other side.

The next thing he saw bothered him, a young woman carrying a torch with wolves constantly following her. When she removed her cloak, he gasped. _Arya_ , Bran thought. She was a little older from the last time he saw her, but he was very certain that it was his sister. He was astonished by his sister's striking resemblance to their aunt Lyanna.

Suddenly, a voice called out. _"Bran."_ It was Meera's voice. _"Bran, wake up."_ It didn't sound as panicked like the way it was back in the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven.

Bran woke with a start and the first thing he saw was Meera's huge grin, then Winter's snout between his and Meera's faces.

Bran had thanked the direwolf for getting them to Castle Black, but when he willingly decided to set him free, Winter wouldn't leave. Instead, he climbed up in the back of the horse cart and sat there, waiting for them to ride it. Bran figured that was Winter's way of telling that he's coming with them. Bran never refused and had allowed it, mostly because he'd gotten attached to the direwolf.

"Bran," Meera said while playfully pushing Winter back. "We're here."

He followed Meera's gaze and saw what she meant.

 _Winterfell._ The ancestral home of the Starks. The heart of the North, both literally and figuratively. Bran used to think he saw and appreciated Winterfell more than his siblings did. He would climb and visit parts of the castle that none normally visited anymore. But of course, since he fell from that tower, he wasn't able to do that anymore. Nevertheless, Bran couldn't help but smile. After years of hiding and running, he's finally home.

"Welcome home, my prince." Meera said.

. . .

Sansa sat next to Jon and Maester Wolkan by the long table on a raised dais in Winterfell's great hall.

Her brother had already decided that he will not punish the remaining Karstarks and Umbers, so he had insisted that the current head of the house will personally come to Winterfell to renew their fealty as a vassal house of House Stark. And if they refuse, Sansa didn't know what Jon's going to do to them.

Since the death of Harald Karstark and Smalljon Umber during the Battle of Winterfell, their houses were left with the last member of their family with the name. Alys Karstark, a girl of sixteen and Mors "Littlemors" Umber, a boy of ten.

Both Alys Karstark and Littlemors Umber stood before them.

Sansa was so lost in thought she hadn't heard most of Alys Karstark had said. "…brother Harald deflected House Karstark from the Starks after your brother Robb executed our father—"

" _King_ Robb," Jon corrected. "And he executed Lord Rickard because he disobeyed a direct order." He pointed out. "He murdered the Lannister hostages, two boys of fourteen. A life for a life, my lady," Jon said. "Surely, you've heard about that."

"A life for a life." Lady Alys repeated. "He was avenging my brothers' deaths."

"Torrhen and Harald Karstark were killed in battle." Sansa brought up. "Harrion was strangled by Jaime Lannister. He murdered the hostages who are meant to be traded in exchange for our father's bones, _your_ liege lord; my sister Arya and myself who were captives at King's Landing."

"Robb was giving justice for the boys your father murdered for revenge." Jon said.

Alys Karstark remained quiet, while they turned to Mors Umber.

"Your Grandfather, the Greatjon Umber," Jon said. "Was the first to declare Robb, the King in the North, before me. Now, your House betrayed us when your father, Smalljon Umber sold our youngest brother, Rickon to Ramsay Bolton. And was killed by Ramsay prior to the battle of Winterfell."

Littlemors looked down. "Rickon was my friend, Your Grace," He said. "We often spar together in the courtyards of the Last Hearth. Until one day, my father took Rickon and his wildling companion, Osha. He said they'll be going somewhere, on a trip. And they never came back."

 _Poor boy_ , Sansa thought. He was too young to be running a castle. She realized that Littlemors was in a similar situation as Lyanna Mormont. Their parent went off to war and never came back, leaving them with the burden of running a castle and having to give everyone orders.

But besides that matter, their families betrayed theirs. "Do you even know the punishment for betraying your liege lord?" Sansa spoke up. "Do you know where the Boltons are right now?" She asked in a shaky voice. "Or the Reynes of Castamere?"

"Sansa," Jon called in a warning tone.

Sansa held her hand in apology. "I'm sorry."

"You'll be stripped off of your lands and titles." Maester Wolkan answered Sansa's question. "And be put to death. And Karhold and Last Hearth will be given to the Free Folk."

At that, Alys Karstark and Mors Umbers paled.

"But I won't do that." Jon promised. "I cannot hold you accountable for you fathers' actions. I'll be giving you a second chance. I will allow you to keep your lands and titles. But you have to swear your fealty to House Stark as one of its vassal houses and swear that a betrayal will not happen again."

"And if we don't?" Alys asked.

Jon stood and turned to her. "Your house will disappear. All memory of you will disappear, like the Reynes of Castamere and the Boltons of the Dreadfort."

Lady Karstark and Lord Umber said their respective oaths of fealty. After that, Jon went down the dais and shook each of their hands. Sansa reluctantly did the same.

"Your Grace," Winterfell's kennelmaster, Farlen, barged into the room with a wide grin.

"Farlen, what is it?" Jon asked.

"Prince Brandon's entourage has entered Wintertown." He reported.

Everyone started talking at the same time. Sansa smiled and turned to Jon, who was also grinning.

Jon returned his attention to all the lords and ladies in the great hall. "If you'll excuse us my lords and ladies, we have to meet our brother." He turned to Farlen. "Ready the chair, Farlen. Bring it outside."

"At once, Your Grace." Farlen replied, then left the room.

. . .

Jon ran to the courtyard with his sister following after him. He couldn't help but be excited to see Bran again. He hadn't seen him since he left for the Wall, and wasn't able to say a proper goodbye, since Bran was in a coma the day he left.

Both he and Sansa waited anxiously in the courtyard for the horses and the cart to arrive. Farlen had brought to them the wheeled chair Jon had asked to be constructed specifically for Bran, so he can control his own movements. And he had also made changes to all the staircases in Winterfell, with half of the stairs' width be made to a ramp to allow Bran to explore the castle while sitting on the chair.

Finally, they had entered the gates. Robett Glover and Tormund Giantsbane were on the lead, with two men carrying the Stark banners. Behind them was the horse cart, with two people seated.

 _Bran had grown, alright_ , Jon thought. He was a man now, very different from the last time he saw him. Next to his brother, was a girl in a mud-green cloak. She had shoulder-length curly brown hair and green eyes. And for some reason, a bow slung on her shoulder. He assumed that she was Meera Reed.

Once the cart halted, Jon ran to his brother. "Bran!" He plucked his brother from his seat and wrapped him fiercely in a bear hug, much to Bran's surprise. "I missed you, little brother." He said, then groaned, just noticing Bran's weight. "You've gotten heavy too."

Bran returned the same hug. "I missed you too, Jon."

Farlen had brought the wheeled chair near them, and Jon placed Bran on it. Once seated, Sansa's eyes watered as she wrapped their younger brother in a hug. "You have grown so much, Bran." She stroked his cheek with her hand. "You're a man now."

Bran smiled then turned his attention to his companion, and a huge light grey furred direwolf whose nearly as large as Ghost, who had just gotten down from the horse cart. "Oh, Jon, Sansa," Bran said. "This is Meera Reed of Greywater Watch. She's Howland Reed's daughter."

Meera bowed. "Your Grace," She addressed. "Princess."

"You have done our brother great kindness, Lady Reed." Jon said. "For that, we are forever grateful for you and your House."

"Our fathers had done the same thing back in the day, Your Grace." Meera said. "It's only right that we'd do the same."

The direwolf nuzzled his snout on Bran's arm.

"And this is Winter." Bran said, patting the direwolf's head.

Sansa frowned. "You named your direwolf after a season?" She asked.

"Oh, come on!" Bran complained. "Really? That's the first thing you say? I expected that from Arya not from you."

Jon, Sansa and Meera laughed. _Like the old times_ , Jon thought.

"Let's get you both inside," Jon said. "Before a blizzard comes."

Sansa went ahead and pushed Bran's chair towards the castle. Jon and Meera followed them inside.

. . .

They held a spontaneous midday feast in honor of Bran's return, since lords and ladies of the houses loyal to the Starks were present. Jon then had thanked Robett Glover and Tormund for bringing Bran safely back to Winterfell. He was also thrilled that there are already three of them sitting at the high table, Sansa at his left, and Bran to his right. With their direwolves, Ghost and Winter by their feet.

Between their meals, Bran tugged Jon's cloak. "Jon, I need a favor." He said.

"Of course," Jon replied. "Anything."

"Can you take me to the Crypts after?" Bran said.

Jon was about to answer, but Sansa spoke up before he could.

"What?" Sansa asked as if he'd misheard. "Why would you wanna go there?"

"Bran, you need to rest." Jon added. "I had your chambers prepared. And a guest's chamber for Lady Reed—"

"Please," Bran pleaded. "I want to light a candle for Rickon."

Jon and Sansa exchanged nervous looks.

"How did you know?" Sansa asked.

Bran was quiet for a moment. "I saw it in my dreams." He said. "It's sort of a long story, but it wasn't just Rickon. There was mother and father, and Robb too. Please take me there."

Jon nodded. "Alright."

. . .

Bran was glad he was home. It was hard going back, seeing it after everything that happened and without the rest of his family. But he couldn't imagine not going back. Winterfell is the only home he's ever had.

Jon and Sansa even had a feast in honor of his return. And they had agreed to take him down the Crypts. His brother _or his cousin_ , had carried him on his back. Bran wrapped his arms around Jon's neck while he held his legs in place, so Bran wouldn't fall off. Sansa held the lamp that lit their way.

"I remember when we all went down here when were children." Jon spoke, breaking the silence.

Bran giggled. "Sansa ran, I cried while clutching Robb's leg and Arya punched you in the face." He recalled. "Yes, I remember it very well."

Jon laughed. "I've never seen Sansa run that fast."

Sansa punched Jon on his arm. "You were a ghost!" She recalled. "Moaning for blood. Who wouldn't run?"

"I was covered in flour." Jon corrected. "It was Robb's idea."

They walked past their Grandfather Lord Rickard, then their Uncle Brandon and Aunt Lyanna, then two empty tombs. The one next to Lyanna's is where Bran and Rickon shared the same dream seeing their father there. Next to it was another empty tomb, probably where Robb was supposed to be buried.

Next to it had a statue of a boy and his direwolf at his feet. _Rickon's tomb._

Bran remembered the last words he spoke to his little brother before they parted ways. _Robb's at war and I'm going north of the Wall._ He had said. _If anything happens to us, you're the heir to Winterfell._

Thinking about it, Bran's eyes watered. He quickly wiped his tears before they stream down his cheek. "His death is my fault." He spoke up, after he lit a candle on the statue's feet.

"It's not your fault." Sansa said. "Ramsay Bolton killed him."

"I should've saved him." Jon spoke up. "I wasn't able to reach him in time."

"It's my fault," Bran said again. "I sent him to the Umbers, to the Last Hearth. I led him to his death."

"You only did what you thought was best for Rickon." Sansa assured. "I'm sure he knows that. But he's at rest now."

. . .

Just as they got up from the Crypts, Jon placed Bran onto his chair and noticed two people on horseback entering the gates.

Sansa noticed him staring and followed his gaze. "Brienne." She said, running to meet them.

Jon followed closely behind, pushing Bran's chair.

"Who's that?" Bran asked.

"Brienne of Tarth," Jon answered. "Sansa sworn shield."

Brienne of Tarth and her squire Podrick Payne bowed before Sansa, them to him and Bran when they saw him approaching.

"Princess," Brienne started to say. "I apologize for failing to convince your great uncle to fight alongside—"

"It's alright." Sansa interrupted. "The fighting is over, for now."

"I do have some news that might be either good or bad or both in your perspective." Brienne said.

All three of them waited.

"Loyal bannermen of the Tullys have risen against the Freys." She reported. "From what I've heard, they've been rallied by the Night Wolf."

Jon, Sansa, and Bran exchanged glances.

"They've been rallied by _whom_?" Jon asked, as if he'd misheard.

"The Night Wolf," Brienne repeated. "Apparently, that's what they call your sister."

Jon's jaws dropped in surprise. _What, now?_

Bran was the first to speak. "Arya's in the Riverlands?" He asked.

Brienne nodded. "Forgive me, Your Grace, my prince and princess." She said. "I tried persuading her to come with us. I really did."

"You met her again?" Sansa asked.

"Aye, my lady," Brienne said. "I even offered to go with her but she refused. Your sister said she had unfinished business she had to deal with. She sent me away to get word to you about her…whereabouts."

"How was she able to convince Tully bannermen to fight against the Freys?" Jon asked.

"I don't know, Your Grace," Brienne said. "But according to the Crannogmen who gave us the information, she had Tully blood from her mother's side." She explained. "To vassal houses, that is enough."

"About this whereabouts," Bran said. "What did she hope to accomplish?"

Brienne took a deep breath. "She means to free your uncle, Edmure Tully from the Freys." She said. "At least, that's what she told me."

 _By the gods, Arya,_ Jon thought.

"I know it's barely believable, your grace," Brienne said. "But from what I've heard, she managed to retake two castles from the Freys in two nights."

"We should send men to aid her at least," Sansa suggested. She clutched Jon's arm. "Jon, Arya's barely sixteen, she can't lead an army."

"That's another thing she told me to inform you, princess," Brienne said, gripped the pummel of her sword. "She won't allow you to send aid."

"What?" Sansa shrieked. "She said that?" She sighed in frustration. "Arya. Still stubborn as she was! Always getting her pride in the way."

If what Brienne said about Arya was true, he couldn't help but be proud of his little sister. Having taken two castles in two nights, he didn't even know if it was possible.

"Brienne's right." Jon said. "We can't send aid."

Sansa scowled at him.

"We don't know where she is." Bran spoke up for him.

"And she was smart enough not to tell Brienne that." Jon pointed out.

"Your sister had been through worse things, princess," Brienne assured. "I believe she can handle anything. She'll be home soon."


	21. The Fall of the Twins

_The Twins._ Arya had only been here twice. The first time was during the Red Wedding, where she was supposed to reunite with her mother and eldest brother. But instead, noticed a massacre of the Stark-Tully bannermen. The second time was to avenge their deaths. She did not expect to be here a third time.

Ever since the Red Wedding, after the murder of her mother, brother Robb, his wife and the rest of the Stark-Tully forces, Edmure Tully had been a hostage at the Twins to secure the Frey's hold in the Riverlands and the Tully's ancestral castle, Riverrun.

Now, here she was, standing before the West castle of the Twins. It was hard to see because of the heavy snowfall. She stood with Lords Jason and Patrek Mallister and all three of them had the hoods of their cloaks pulled over to protect their heads from the snow. Arya's direwolf Nymeria stood beside her and noticed that the direwolf wasn't bothered by the cold winds and heavy snowfall. She and the rest of the Wolfpack. _Well, that's why the direwolf is the sigil of House Stark_ , Arya thought.

She glanced at the West castle while the other men waited for orders.

Patrek sighed in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm here again." He said.

"You're not the only one, Lord Patrek." Arya said before she could stop herself.

Jason Mallister frowned at her. "You've been here before?" He asked.

Arya nodded reluctantly. "During the Red Wedding, when the massacre happened." She cleared her throat avoiding the subject. "Anyways, Lord Jason," She said, pulling the piece of fabric Patrek had given her earlier. "You are to find Lady Roslin and my uncle's son with her."

Lord Jason took the fabric from her. "It will be done, my lady."

"Well, that is, if she is still in her chambers." Patrek said.

"And why wouldn't she be?" Lord Jason asked. "It's the hour of the wolf."

"Because Lady Roslin visits Edmure every night," Patrek revealed. "And it's about this hour that she carries a torch in the dungeons."

"And how in seven hells do you know that?" Lord Jason demanded.

"I was imprisoned in a cell next to Edmure's, father." Patrek reminded him. "I doubt it if Walder Frey even knows about that. Seems to me, that she's come to love him." He said.

"Alright, that's enough talk," Arya said. "It's time to teach the Freys a lesson."

. . .

The Twins, or sometimes called The Crossing, a stronghold that consists of two near-identical castles and a fortified bridge over the narrowest part of the Green Fork of the River Trident. It represents the only crossing point over the Green Fork for hundreds of miles in either direction. And, it's also the seat of House Frey. _The upstarts who murdered my family,_ Arya thought.

Since her last _visit_ , Arya had learned that her uncle is being kept in the East castle of the Twins. They are currently near the West castle, which meant they'd have to cross the bridge to get to the other side. There was no other way. The Green Fork runs deep and swift, it'd be hard to fight against its current, and they certainly didn't have time to go around it.

As usual, the wolves were their signal to start off the attack. Nymeria started to howl and the rest of the wolves followed.

In the distance, Arya could see Mallister men with grappling claws and ropes approaching the stone walls of the West castle. It was then followed by distant screams and clashing steel.

They waited for the portcullises to open. And when it did, Arya marched forward. Jason and Patrek started to follow but were almost overrun by the wolves, so they let the Wolfpack go ahead first.

Mudge, a member of the Brotherhood, the one she stole a knife in her attempt to kill the Hound after his trial by combat, was waiting at the gates. He was holding a torch in one hand and a sword in the other. He froze when he saw her and the hundred wolves of the pack.

"Princess," Mudge bowed, then to others behind her. "Milords,"

The fighting is still going on, Mallister and Brotherhood men against Frey soldiers. Arya turned to Nymeria. "You know our men, girl." She patted the direwolf's pelt. "They need help." She said, turning to the other wolves. _"Eat."_

Nymeria led the Wolfpack as they flaunted their sharp fangs and attacked Frey soldiers.

"Lord Edmure is imprisoned in the East castle, milady." Mudge informed as he led them to the portcullis that opened to the bridge. "The bridge is already safe to cross and Notch is waiting on the other side."

Arya nodded. "Good job, Mudge." She said.

"Secure this castle." Beric ordered. "And after you do, get the horses ready and head for the East castle to regroup." He said. "We're going with the princess North."

Mudge nodded, then went back to fighting.

Patrek Mallister frowned. "You're not going to Riverrun?" He asked.

Arya shook her head. "No," She said. "I'll be going North, back to Winterfell."

"What about your uncle?" Patrek asked. "Who's going to accompany him to Riverrun?"

"You are." Arya said. "After we get him, his wife and son, you'll get them back to Riverrun. Lord Blackwood and his forces may have secured the castle by the time you reach there."

Patrek nodded in agreement. "Alright."

Before they cross, Nymeria returned to her side with her mouth stained with blood, along with other wolves.

"Well, I have to say," Jason Mallister said. "These wolves live up to their reputation."

. . .

The bridge was only lit by torches at every few meters. Crossing the bridge, you could hear the rapid and swift current of the Green Fork.

Sure enough, when they reached the gates of the East castle, Notch was waiting, torch in hand. Notch was another member of the Brotherhood, Arya remembered him as one of the men who guided her and Gendry into Hollow Hill when they were captives.

"Princess," Notch nodded.

Once they reached the East castle's courtyard, they began to split up.

Arya approached two wolves from the Wolfpack and rubbed their heads. "Lord Jason," She called. "Let them smell the fabric and they'll lead you to Roslin Frey."

Lord Jason held out the piece of fabric to the wolves, who sniffed the cloth and then began picking up a trail.

"Lord Beric, go with him." Arya suggested. "Lady Roslin and my uncle's son will need protection when they get out of here."

Beric nodded. "Aye, my lady."

"The rest of you are coming with me." Arya said. "We'll find my Uncle Edmure." She turned to her direwolf. "Nymeria, stay close to me."

Patrek Mallister led the way as they entered the keep and below the dungeons. Thoros, Gendry and the Hound went with her.

Arya had explored the East castle when she came in disguised as a serving wench. She knew the layout of the castle, where the great hall, stables, the many chambers of Walder Frey's children and grandchildren, kitchens and lord's solar are located. She had explored everything, except the dungeons.

Thoros and the Gendry went ahead. Thoros' flaming sword was their source of light in the dark passageways of the dungeons. Gendry gripped his warhammer, ready to smack anyone who dared to come close. Patrek and Arya had their swords drawn. Nymeria stayed close to her. The Hound was just behind them, guarding their backs, mostly, because he didn't want to be anywhere near Thoros' flaming sword.

They turned a lot of corners until Patrek approached one cell and gripped it iron bars.

"Edmure?" Patrek called.

Someone in the cell shifted, but it was too dark to see.

"Lord Edmure!" Patrek called again.

The prisoner came closer to them and Arya could make out his disheveled auburn hair and blue eyes as he squinted at them.

"Patrek?" Edmure called. "Is that you?" He asked in disbelief.

Arya turned to Patrek. "Is that him?" She asked.

"It is, princess." Patrek replied.

Arya turned to Gendry. "Get him out."

Gendry draw his warhammer, and destroyed the lock with one swing. Edmure came out from the cell.

Arya grabbed a torch from the wall, held it out and pushed down the hood of her cloak. "Uncle Edmure?" She called.

Edmure frowned at her. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Why are you calling me _uncle_?"

Before she could say anything, Patrek spoke up. "She's your niece." He said. "Arya Stark."

Edmure's eyebrows went up in realization. "Catelyn's daughter." He reached out and touched her face and smiled. "You were only a babe in your mother's arms the last time I saw you." He shook his head. "But what are you doing here?" He asked.

"We came to get you out." Arya said. "Now, come on. Let's get you out of here."

"What about my wife and son?" Edmure asked. "And…and your brother?"

"Lord Jason Mallister already is doing so." Arya said. "As for Robb…" She faltered. "He's dead. Along with mother and his wife."

Edmure nodded. "I know." He said sadly. "But he's here." He walked back into the cell, all the way to the stone wall adjacent to the iron bars and then crouched at the floor.

"Uncle?" Arya handed Patrek the torch and followed her uncle into the cell. "What—?" She gagged as soon as she noticed the smell. The air inside the cell smelled like a corpse had been thrown in and left to rot. When she got to her uncle and saw it, it was exactly like what she thought.

 _Robb._ She thought. Arya knew it was her brother's corpse, or rather his bones. She knew, because the clothes worn were stained with dried blood and the skull wasn't of a human's, but of an animal. A direwolf. Robb's direwolf, _Grey Wind._

Arya knelt before her brother's remains. She remembered everything that happened that night, when the massacre happened. The worst part was when she saw Robb with his direwolf's head sewn onto his body, and Frey men were chanting repeatedly _, Here goes the King in the North!_

It was that day she learned to kill without guilt. _It was justice,_ she thought.

"Walder Frey made a jest out of it." Edmure explained. "He said I was getting lonely down here. So he had your brother's corpse tossed in, to keep me company he said."

Seeing her brother's bones littered on the floor, anger raged through her. The same kind of anger when she saw Robb's body carried around as Stark men were slaughtered.

Arya turned to the people outside the cell. "Can someone find me a box or a trunk or something?"

"Arya," Gendry started to say.

"Just please…" Arya faltered. She literally had to hold back tears. "I can't leave him here."

Thoros and the Hound went out searching.

"What are you gonna do?" Gendry asked.

"I'm taking Robb back to Winterfell with me," Arya said. "And bury him in the Crypts."

"Arya—" Edmure started to say.

"He's my brother, Uncle." Arya snapped. "It's where he belongs."

Nymeria went to Arya's side. The direwolf nuzzled Grey Wind's skull and made a sad whimper.

Arya reached out and caressed Nymeria's pelt. "I know, girl." She said. "We both lost brothers that night."

Patrek huffed. "If the Freys had anymore had respect for killing guests beneath their roof, they should've at least burn their bodies." He said. "But no, they didn't even bury them. They tossed the Young Wolf's corpse into his uncle's cell and threw his mother's body into the Green Fork."

Edmure turned to him, scowling. "They did _what_ to my sister's body?" He shrieked.

"They threw mother's body into the Green fork." Arya explained. "But don't worry, uncle," She quickly added, so her uncle wouldn't be more upset than he already was. "The Brotherhood gave her a proper funeral after the wolves found her body." She said. "I don't know about Aunt Lysa but—"

"Lysa's dead too?" Edmure gasped.

Arya bit back a curse then nodded reluctantly. "Her son, Robin Arryn is Lord of the Vale." She said. "With Littlefinger as its Regent."

At that, her uncle groaned in frustration. "That prick never stops, does he?" He said. "Always wondered why Cat pleaded Brandon to let him live. He could've just killed him that day."

"What do you mean, Uncle?" Arya asked.

"You can't trust Littlefinger." Edmure said. "Do you think he actually married Lysa because he loves her? No, he's after the title that comes with it. I know that man, I grew up with him."

A few minutes later, Thoros and the Hound came back with a small trunk. "Lord Edmure is right, princess." The trunk looked small since the Hound was a huge man and because he was able to hold it with one arm, the other arm wielding a sword. "He betrayed your father at court when he questioned Joffrey's claim to the Iron throne."

"And how do you know that?" Arya demanded.

"I was there." The Hound said as placed the trunk on the floor and opened it before her. "Littlefinger held a knife against Lord Eddard's throat before they threw him into the dungeons." He explained.

Arya gently scooped up her Robb's remains and placed it inside the chest, including his direwolf's skull and cloak.

Then she remembered something she heard at the Crossroads Inn. "But Littlefinger rallied the Knights of the Vale aided the Jon against the Boltons." Arya said.

"When he helps you for something, don't expect not to do anything in return." Edmure said. "You can't trust him. And don't ever trust that man." He advised.

Arya snorted. "I've learned to choose people to trust after they chopped off my father's head." She said. "And besides, I was just informed that he betrayed my father."

"If you're going to expose him, don't do it just yet," Edmure warned. "Or you will lose the support of the Vale. Don't make the same mistake your brother did."

Arya frowned at him. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Robb beheaded Rickard Karstark after he murdered two Lannister boys meant to be traded in exchange for you and your sister Sansa." Patrek recalled. "He lost nearly half of the northern army when he did. And we lost the support of the Freys when he married a foreigner."

After Arya placed Robb's remains into the trunk, she stood. "We'll worry about that later." She said. "For now, let's get out of here."

The Hound picked up the trunk and held it in his arm.

As they made their way out of the dungeons, there was suddenly a loud booming sound that shook the castle.

"What was that?" Edmure asked.

"The mangonels had probably started firing." Patrek said.

"The _what_?" Arya shrieked in disbelief. "What did you have those for?"

Patrek frowned at her. "You gave orders, princess." He said.

Arya was almost afraid to ask. "What orders?"

Patrek shrugged. "You said to _sack it_ and _burn it to the ground._ "

Arya's eyes widened. _"What?!"_ She exclaimed. "I never gave that order!"

"Aye, you did, my lady." Thoros said. "We were all there when you said it."

Another loud thud shook the castle.

She took a deep breath. "Let's just get out of here." Arya said.

. . .

As they made their way out of the dungeons, Patrek Mallister had informed Edmure of the things that had happened to the Riverlands and the North after the Red Wedding and the siege of Riverrun; and how the North had been retaken back by the Starks and how his niece, Arya Stark, had rallied the Brotherhood Without Banners, loyal Tully bannermen and the infamous Wolfpack.

As they got out to the courtyard, everyone was there. Beric and the rest of the men of the Brotherhood with the horses ready, Lord Jason Mallister and the two wolves she had sent to guide him, and a young woman with brown hair in her early twenties carrying a little boy in her arms. _Roslin_ , Arya thought. _Uncle Edmure's wife_.

Arya glanced around her surroundings. The East castle was on fire and it lit up the entire courtyard. There was barely snow on the ground due to the heat of the flames. Nymeria and the Wolfpack were feasting on the meat of the dead Frey soldiers. There was also no fighting anymore, at least on this side of the Twins, but she could hear wails of women and children trapped inside the burning castle. It must have been the similar to the story of Harrenhal, how Harren the Black and his family were trapped and torched inside their own castle.

"Roslin!" Edmure called when he saw his wife.

Roslin was clutching her son, trying to get him to stop crying. She smiled wide when she saw her husband running to her. "Edmure!"

Edmure wrapped his wife and son in a hug. He then took his son into his arms. "Hello, little Brynden." He said. The little boy had his father's auburn hair and his mother's brown eyes. Arya found it amusing when she heard her little cousin's name. Apparently, they had named him after her great-uncle the _Blackfish_ , Brynden Tully, probably because the Blackfish died during the siege of Riverrun after her uncle surrendered the castle to the Freys.

Another loud explosion shook the castle and caused one of the turrets to collapse. The debris fell to the courtyard nearly crashing one of the wolves.

Arya didn't know if she would be furious at the Mallisters and the Brotherhood for taking her sarcastic comment about burning the Twins seriously, or be mad at herself for looking all serious when she said it during their war council.

But there was no time. _What's done is done,_ she thought. The castle's already burning and they need to get out before it will collapse on them.

Arya glanced out the gates and saw that the West castle was also in flames. That meant the bridge is the next thing that will be destroyed.

"Uncle," Arya called urgently as she approached him. "You need to go, now." She insisted. "You need to get out of here."

Edmure frowned at her. "But where will we go?" He asked.

"Home." Arya said. "To Riverrun."

Edmure's scowl deepened then shook his head in disbelief. "Arya, Riverrun is under the control of the Freys." He said.

"After tonight," Arya shook her head. "Not anymore."

"What do you mean?" Edmure asked.

Arya sighed. "It's a long story and we have no time," She said. "But I've ordered the Blackwoods retake it from the Freys and the Lannisters. Don't worry about it." She assured. "Lord Tytos Blackwood will be waiting for your arrival. And you will take on your title as Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident."

Edmure was still in shock. He stared at her. "What about you?" Edmure asked. "You're not coming with us?"

Arya shook her head. "No, uncle." She said. "I'm going North. I'll be going home too." She shrugged. "It's about time we both do."

Edmure smiled at her and nodded. Then he did something she wasn't expecting. He wrapped her in a hug. Arya gladly returned the same hug, holding back tears. She hadn't been this close to family since well, she couldn't even remember.

When they parted, Edmure placed a hand on her shoulder. "Before you go, Patrek told me that there's a new King in the North." He said. "Know this: the Riverlands is still pledged to the North. King Jon may not be my nephew, but he is your brother. Stark blood runs through his veins. He's my king just as Robb was. I'll send a raven to Winterfell once we reach Riverrun." He promised. "And I'll send men to Winterfell once we've keep the Riverlands in check."

Arya nodded in agreement. "You should address it to Sansa though." She said. "Anyways, you should get going before the bridge collapses."

Edmure mounted his horse Lord Jason had prepared. Patrek helped Roslin and little Brynden up to sit behind Edmure. Jason and Patrek Mallister then mounted their horses.

"Safe travels, my dear niece." Edmure said.

"Safe travels, Uncle." Arya replied with a smile.

She watched as her uncle's party went out the gates and crossed the bridge to the west side of the river. But as their party reached the middle of the bridge, another explosion shook the castle.

"Arya, watch out!" Gendry screamed as he pulled her back from the gates just as the portcullis slammed down where she stood a second ago.

She stumbled to the ground. If Gendry hadn't pulled her out of the way, the portcullis's metal latticed grille might've impaled her.

Gendry helped her up. "You okay?" He asked.

Arya nodded. "Thanks." Then she frowned when she saw a gash on his right jaw. She reached out and gently touched it. "What happened to you?" She asked.

"Some Frey soldier slammed the side of his shield on me." Gendry said. "But it's nothing." He assured. "Don't worry about it."

Beric cleared his throat. "Pardon me princess," He said. "But it's not safe for us to remain here. We need to leave."

Arya glanced at the people present. Besides Gendry, the Brotherhood only had fifteen men left. Beric and Thoros stood beside each other; the Hound with the small trunk carrying Robb's remains, Anguy and Dennett, the Brotherhood's longbowmen; Harwin, one of her father's household guards; the others Jack-Be-Lucky, Likely Luke, Mudge, Notch and five others whose names she didn't know. They were all waiting for her to give orders, even Nymeria and her Wolfpack.

"Let's get out of here." Arya said.

She mounted her horse. The others did the same and they rode out of the East castle to the east banks of the Green Fork with the Wolfpack on their trail.

. . .

They rode on for about a mile before stopping to look back at the Twins, which had both castles already ablaze. Its towers were already crumbling. Arya could make out the mangonels, Patrek had called it, settled by the west banks of the Green Fork, catapults which were loaded with large rocks doused with oil and set it in flames before being thrown onto the walls.

Now, they were watching as a new one is being loaded and thrown, hitting the stone bridge. The bridge slowly collapsed on to the Green Fork, with its rubble washed away by the river's swift current.

As Arya stared at the burning castles and the collapsing bridge, she couldn't help a feeling of satisfaction surging through her.

 _The North remembers_ , she thought. Surely, that will be enough of a message to other houses who would dare cross the Starks of Winterfell.

They continued to head on north. Arya led on with a satisfied smile on her face and her direwolf Nymeria at her side.


	22. The Crannogmen of the Neck

_Arya was the Night Wolf again_. She was sniffing the ground, which was partly covered in snow. She could sense that her little cousins were not far from where she was. Food had become scarcer and scarcer when the snow came. Even if the Wolf pack had been feasting on the meat of men killed in combat in the past three days, they could barely hunt for food nowadays.

Even in daylight, it was gloomy. And the snowfall was not helping. She could see two of her little cousins dragging out corpses in burnt Frey armor.

Out in the open, she could see people standing outside their homes staring at something at a distance.

 _"_ _Am I really seeing this?"_ A man holding an axe asked. _"I'm not going crazy?"_

 _"_ _No, Aden,"_ A woman next to him answered. _"We see it too."_

She stepped into the light and she saw what they meant.

Two castles on the banks of a wide river with a bridge connecting them, or used to connect, since it had collapse down the middle. The dying fires of the fallen castles spew out black, thick smoke that went on in every direction.

 _"_ _The Twins was besieged last night?"_ Another man spoke up. _"Who would even dare to do that?"_

 _"_ _Could be anyone."_ An elderly man answered. _"Probably those houses loyal to the Tullys, or that Stark girl's ghost with the vicious Wolfpack."_ He said. _"But whoever did it had just saved our arses from the Freys' horrible reign in the Riverlands. Let's just hope Lord Edmure got out of there."_

Then a little boy turned and saw her. His eyes widened as he gulped. _"A wolf!"_ He shrieked.

Everyone turned to her direction and gasped as they saw them. Several of them ran back to their homes.

Her little cousins were now standing defensively behind her, even those who were dragging out the corpses in burnt Frey armor. They were growling with their fangs flashed.

 _"_ _It's the Wolfpack."_ One said in a small voice.

The villagers ran back to their homes and bolted their doors. Several of the wolves from started to prowl, but she snarled at them to stop.

 _Arya!_ She heard a voice call out. It was Gendry's, and he sounded panicked. _Arya, wake up!_

. . .

Arya woke with Gendry shaking her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "You were shaking."

Arya nodded. "Yeah," She answered, catching her breath as she sat up. "I'm fine."

The weather that day was almost similar to that of the North. You can barely see the sun shining even at midday. And it was cold. Colder than it had been before.

Arya scanned her surroundings. The men of the Brotherhood were just breaking their fast. Beric, Thoros and the Hound sat near her, each munching on some freshly cooked meat she suspected that they stole from the Twins' kitchens.

"Good morning, princess." The Hound said. "Have a nice sleep?" He asked sarcastically.

Gendry offered her some freshly cooked meat as he sat beside her. Arya took it and ate silently.

Beric seemed to notice that she was unusually quiet. "Is something bothering you, my lady?" He asked.

Gendry turned to her suspiciously. "Were you having those wolf dreams again?"

Arya glanced around again and noticed that the wolves were nowhere to be seen. Then she remembered what she saw in her dreams. The people in that village were terrified at what they saw, the Twins still burning and the wolves hunting near the area.

"Where's the Wolf pack?" She asked.

Beric shrugged. "Probably went hunting."

"It's morning." Arya said. "Wolves go hunting at night not the day."

"Why are you so worried about—oh, there they are!" Thoros pointed at a distance and sure enough Nymeria was running towards them followed by the wolves of the pack.

Nymeria ran straight towards Arya, startling a few men from the Brotherhood. She stopped before her and licked her face. "Alright, girl." She playfully pushed the direwolf's snout away from her face. "Don't _ever_ do that again." Arya scolded.

The direwolf gave a soft whimper before resting her head on Arya's lap. She sighed and reluctantly stroked the direwolf's hide. The rest of the wolves huddled nearby.

Beric, Thoros and the Hound exchanged side glances.

"Uh, don't do what again, my lady?" Beric repeated.

"I was talking to the direwolf." Arya said. "They frightened off people in a nearby village."

Beric's scowl deepened. "How are you certain?" He asked.

"I saw it in my dreams." Arya said. "Everynight, I always see what they're up to, the Wolfpack. They disappear at night and hunt for food."

"Everynight?" Beric asked.

"It wasn't like that before." Arya explained. "But it has become frequent ever since I found Nymeria before going back to Hollow Hill."

Thoros narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, I don't think you're dreaming, princess, no, no, no."

Arya frowned. "What do you mean?" She asked.

He drank from his canteen of ale. "I think you can get inside the direwolf's head." He said. "Is that how you tamed the Wolf pack?" He asked.

"I never tamed the Wolf pack," She explained. "They follow Nymeria, not me. She just happened to be my direwolf."

"Aye," Thoros agreed. "But you can get inside her head," He suggested. "See through her eyes, sniff the dirt, taste fresh meat in your mouth?"

Arya shrugged. "Only when I'm asleep." She confirmed.

"Aha!" Thoros blurted out. "I knew it! You have this very rare ability, princess." He said. "And here I thought the things they say about the Starks were hoaxes. I didn't know if it's actually true, I mean I've only heard stories about—"

"What stories?" She asked.

"Well, one in particular." Thoros said. "About Robb Stark, your brother. Heard he rides into battle with a direwolf at his side. Is that true?"

Arya glanced at the small trunk that carried Robb's remains, not far from her. "Yeah, that's true." She nodded.

Thoros took another sip from his canteen. "So, you and your siblings had direwolves as pets—?"

"They're not pets!" Arya interrupted. "They're our protectors. Anyways, what do you think it means? With me having these dreams?"

Thoros shrugged. "You're not dreaming, princess," He said. "You're seeing through her eyes. You're a warg." He blurted out. "Or so they say."

Arya tried to ponder this. She'd heard Old Nan's stories when they were children growing up in Winterfell. She'd tell Arya and her siblings about people who can enter the minds of animals and control their movements. But those were just stories.

She remembered what Gendry told her a few days back. _They said the Starks are wargs_. She recalled. _You had direwolves, so you can warg into them._

Arya pushed the thought aside. She remembered what she saw in her dreams, the wolves were dragging corpses of Frey soldiers. If there were any soldiers who had managed to survive during what happened to the Twins, it's either they tried to escape or were sent to trail after them.

After she ate, Arya stood abruptly. "We need to leave now." She said.

Everyone stared at her in surprise.

"Arya, we know you wanted to be back in Winterfell—" Gendry started to say.

"I'm not worried about that, Gendry." Arya interrupted. She sighed. "In my dreams, I saw the wolves dragging out corpses of Frey men from a nearby village."

"But we're nearly leagues away from the Twins." Gendry said.

"Yes, we're leagues away." Arya agreed. "And how come there were soldiers this far?" She asked.

"Probably just deserters," Beric suggested. "Soldiers who abandoned their post and escaped."

"Well, either that," The Hound spoke up. "Or they were sent after us. The princess is right. We need to move."

Beric turned to the other men present. "Alright, lads," He said. "You heard the princess. We need to move."

. . .

Arya continued to travelled North with the Brotherhood.

They just had to head past the swamps of the Neck and then Moat Cailin to be sure that they're safe and that no one would dare go after them, if any of the Freys survived.

No man in his right mind would dare pass the Neck unless they're Northmen. And if they're invaders or enemies of the North they'd suffer from the threats of the crannogmen or just drown beneath the bogs in their own steel armor.

And since the Neck is mostly bogs and swamps, the only dry and navigable road passable is through the Causeway, which forms part of the Kingsroad in the North that go all the way to Moat Cailin. And it is also the only safe route through the swamps.

Once they were heading towards the Kingsroad, Beric rode alongside her.

"My lady," Beric called. "Not minding but, I thought we were avoiding the Kingsroad."

"Kingsroad had the only causeway across the swamps of the Neck." Arya pointed out.

"Is there no other way around it?" The Hound asked.

Arya shook her head. "Well, unless you have boat that we could use to sail to White Harbor, no there isn't."

Everyone was quiet as they passed the Kingsroad. Arya studied her surroundings. To her right, was the bleak and barren shore and the cold salt sea of the Bite, to her left were the swamps and bogs of the Neck. Seeing it from where she was, it was impassible and quite deadly.

That's when Nymeria started growling. Arya couldn't shake the feeling that something bad's about to happen. The wolves always sense it first before they do.

Suddenly, a frog-spear landed itself before Arya's way, making her horse rear and huff nervously.

Behind her, Beric yelled. "Halt!" He ordered as he put a hand on the pommel of his sword. Gendry rode beside her, gripping his warhammer tighter. The others with them went for their weapons. The Hound clutched the trunk that carried the remains of her brother, Robb. And the rest of the Wolfpack surrounded them.

People armed with either bows and arrows or frog spears emerged from the swamps and trees. They were also short in stature, but not as short as the imp, Tyrion Lannister. They were also perfectly camouflaged in their mud-green garments that Arya hadn't notice them at first.

The Hound was the first to speak. "Frog-eaters!" He screamed.

A short bearded man approached them and plucked out the spear before Arya, carefully staying away from Nymeria. "Call us what you will," The man said, clearly offended. "Frog-eaters, bog devils, mud men, you southerners are no better than our fellow Northmen."

"Apologies, my friend," Beric said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I believe the correct term would be…?" She turned to Arya for help.

" _Crannogmen_." Arya spoke up. "It's what they call the people who live in the swamps of the Neck."

The man with the frog spear nodded. "Aye, that's right, my lady," He said. "But there's still much you southerners don't know about the North."

"I'm not a southerner." Arya corrected. "Now, let us pass." She demanded.

The man snorted. "And why would we do that?" He asked. "Do you have any business going North?"

"You _will_ let us pass," Gendry demanded. "Because the King in the North will have your heads if you prevent his _sister_ from returning home to Winterfell."

The man's smiled disappeared. He turned to her, then at the direwolf, then back at her. "Who are you?" He asked, his voice shaky.

Arya straightened. "I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell," She introduced herself. "Now, are you going to let us pass or am I going to let these wolves to tear you apart? Your choice."

His eyes went wide. "Gods be good." He choked, and then got down on one knee before her. "Forgive us, Princess." He apologized. "We didn't know it was you."

The others nearby did the same thing and bowed.

Arya dismounted her horse and her companions did that same. She patted Nymeria's hide. "Heel." She said.

Nymeria calmed down and stood quietly beside Arya.

"Do you always intercept people heading North?" She asked.

"No, princess," The man replied. "Only those not carrying banners. And known enemies of the North."

Arya smirked. Now, she understood why the Lannister and Frey army never dared to invade the North like they did with the Riverlands.

"What's your name, ser?" Arya asked.

"I'm no ser, my lady." The man said. "I'm Carron Marsh, Captain of the Guard for the Greywater."

Behind her, the Hound snickered. " _Marsh_ , eh?" He said. "A crannogmen indeed."

Arya glared at him and the Hound fell silent.

Suddenly, one of the crannogmen who was armed with a bow, called out. "Captain Marsh!"

Carron Marsh turned to his fellow crannogman. "Tobin, what is it?" He asked.

Tobin leaned in and whispered in Carron's ear. Judging from Carron's facial expression, he just gave him good news.

"Well, Lord Howland will be pleased to hear—" Carron started to say, until Tobin continued to whisper in his ear, and his expression darkened.

Arya and Gendry exchanged glances. Now, she understood why the crannogmen were always looked down by the other Northmen. They had this strange and unusual way of living. But nevertheless, they were Northmen all the same. And their lord, Howland Reed is a good friend to her father.

Carron turned back to her. "Princess, if you would please," He said. "We'll escort you to Greywater. Lord Howland—"

"What?" Arya asked as if she'd misheard. "Why would I go there?"

"But, princess," Carron said. "This matter concerns your Lord father, Eddard Stark."

That caught her off guard. Her father had been dead for nearly six years, and Robb declared war on Joffrey when he ordered for their father's head. "What about my Lord father?" Arya asked curiously.

"I think it's best if Lord Howland will explain it himself, my lady." Carron said.

Arya considered it. She could tell Carron wasn't lying. Howland Reed is a good friend of her father. He had helped her father rescue her aunt Lyanna in the south. And if there are undisclosed information that concerned her father, Howland Reed would be one of those trusted to keep it.

She was so deep in thought, that she didn't notice Beric Dondarrion was now standing beside her.

"I don't know about this, my lady," He said. "It could be a trap. Northmen have betrayed the Starks before."

"If Northmen were to betray their liege lords," Arya said. "The crannogmen will be the last to do so. And House Reed is the one of the Stark's most loyal bannermen." She turned back to Carron. "If there's something that concerns my deceased lord father, then it concerns me as well—"

"Princess," Beric interrupted.

"We're already here, Lord Beric." Arya argued. "If it's not that important they wouldn't have suggest taking me to Greywater Watch in the first place."

Once again, Arya turned to Carron. "As I was saying, Captain Marsh," She said. "If you would please, take me to Howland Reed."

"Of course, my lady." Carron said, gesturing for her to follow him.


	23. The Secrets of Greywater Watch

Arya realized that the Neck wasn't just swamps, with most of the plant life half-submerged in the murky waters, and the white fog constantly hovering low over the surface, shrouding the walkways, making it almost impossible to see. It also had endless suckholes, quicksands and green grass that looked solid to unsuspecting eyes, but turns to water the instant you step on it, and she had nearly stepped on all three several times.

Carron Marsh led them deeper into the swamps. "You have to watch where you step, princess." He warned. "The terrain is quite deceiving here in the Neck."

"I can tell." Arya said as she nearly stepped on what probably looked like quicksand before Gendry pulled her arm, and led her away from it.

Arya also had only allowed Beric Dondarrion, Gendry and her direwolf Nymeria to go with her to Greywater Watch. The others stayed behind on the Causeway, and Beric had left Thoros in charge of the remaining men and wolves.

Captain Marsh stopped at this tree, larger than the ones she'd seen, and waved his hand on its largest roots. "Here you go, my lady," He said. "Your ride to Greywater."

Arya stared at him blankly. She glanced at Beric and Gendry if they understood what the crannogmen meant, but they looked just as clueless as she was.

"Uh, what ride?" She asked.

Carron turned to his other companion, Tobin, the man who had whispered in his ear earlier, and gestured for him to go ahead.

Tobin went ahead and hopped between two large roots protruding and half-submerged in the water. Arya feared that the crannogman might've fallen into the murky waters, but instead he landed on a small boat.

Arya realized that the one they were standing on was actually a wooden wharf. Several other boats were lined up side by side, between large tree roots, and they were made to blend with the surroundings. The boats were almost invisible unless you look closer. And each was wide enough to carry six people.

"That's impressive." Arya said.

Carron snorted. "You haven't seen Greywater yet, my lady."

Carron helped Arya get down onto the boat, then stepped back to get out of Nymeria's way. "Is that wolf really coming with you?" He asked.

"She's my direwolf," Arya said, as Nymeria went and settled beside her. "If she's not going, I'm not going either."

Carron nodded reluctantly, then gestured for Beric and Gendry to follow. He hopped in last and handed Tobin an oar and they began rowing.

It was probably late afternoon, but it was already darker than it should've been. The white fog that constantly hovered over the surface was thicker, and they can barely see the water below.

As they rowed in the swamps, they came across several crannogmen scouts armed with either bows and arrows or frog spears, who would send hand signals whether to row straight ahead or to turn.

"Don't you know the way to your lord's castle?" Arya asked. "You seem to be relying on the scouts we come across." She noticed.

Carron snorted. "Greywater Watch is unlike any castle you'll ever see, my lady." He explained. "And finding it once doesn't mean you'll ever find it again. That's why we need them to guide us."

. . .

After hours of rowing, they finally arrived. Straight ahead, loomed Greywater Watch. _The floating fortress,_ Arya thought. She almost didn't see it, since it perfectly blended with its surroundings.

Greywater Watch was on its own island. Its walls were covered in moss and overgrown vines. What she didn't expect were the crannog huts huddled just outside the castle's walls. It was similar to that of Winterfell with Wintertown outside its walls.

The boat docked at the wharf few yards from the castle's gates. Nymeria jumped onto the wooden wharf, startling a few Crannogmen. It was a relieving to be on marginally dry ground again rather than rowing across the murky swamps, without feeling anxious on whatever's lurking beneath the waters.

They stepped onto the wharf and Carron led them towards the gates and passed a portcullis latticed grille made of entirely of wood.

As they went by, people stared at them. Arya figured it was either because they had a direwolf with them, or they weren't wearing green garments like most of the people present or both.

Observing as they passed by, Arya never realized how the Crannogmen were smart people. Well, strange in a way, but smart. They were able to adapt into this humid and wet ecosystem and use the environment to their advantage when it comes to defending themselves. Though, almost all of the people were short in stature, but are more capable of doing things. What Arya wondered is, how they're going to keep up with the snow in the coming winter. They'll be left vulnerable when the swamps freeze up and hold their floating castle in place.

 _Well, the Freys are gone,_ Arya thought. _That's one problem solved._ She had heard about the Crannogmen's dispute with the Freys of the Crossing as they tried to find and conquer the floating castle but never found it. With the Freys gone, they don't have to worry about invaders south of the Neck.

Greywater Watch's courtyard was busy. People were working everywhere. They walked past the workers, who were giving them second glances and headed towards the Keep.

Just outside the Keep in an archery range near a few straw targets, stood a middle aged, bearded man, slightly taller than most Crannogmen Arya had seen so far, but still short compared to other Northmen, with dirty blond hair. He had a sword hung on his side and he wore a mud-green cloak held together by a clasp shaped like that of a lizard-lion.

 _Howland Reed_ , Arya thought. She's only heard stories about the man, saving her father's life, and helping rescue her aunt Lyanna from the Targaryens. Now, she's meeting him in person.

Lord Howland was smiling and laughing as he held a little boy in his arms, who had the same dirty blond hair as he does but they were in unruly curls. Next to him, was a woman with long dark brown wavy hair. Whom Arya supposed were Howland Reed's wife and son.

Carron approached them. "Lord Reed," He called.

Howland Reed turned to him. "Ah, Carron, I—" The Lord of Greywater Watch's smile disappeared and froze at the sight of her. His green eyes regarded her with horror. Like he'd seen a ghost.

"Lord Reed?" Carron Marsh nudged him.

"My love," His wife squeezed his arm. "What is it?" She asked.

Lord Howland handed his son to his wife and frowned at her.

"Lord Reed," Carron said again. "May I present, Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, Princess in the North."

Lord Howland turned his attention to the direwolf beside her, then to her companions, then back at her. "Lord Eddard's daughter," He said, shaking out of his daze, then bowed. "Forgive me for being startled, Princess," He apologized. "It's just…you look like her, your Aunt Lyanna. Very much like her."

Arya sighed in annoyance. She was really tired of hearing it. "Yes, well, I've been told that a lot." She said. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Reed."

Howland Reed smiled. "And you, princess. Welcome to Greywater Watch." He gestured to the woman beside him. "This is my wife, Jyana," Then ruffled the boy's hair. "And my son, Gaven."

Jyana Reed bowed. "Princess," She addressed.

Looking at Lord Howland's wife, Lady Jyana, made Arya wondered if she really was of the crannogmen because she doesn't look like she belonged in the bogs and swamps. She was tall, taller than the Crannogwomen she'd seen, with long, wavy dark brown hair and surprisingly, she had haunting purple eyes. And their son, Gaven had it too.

Arya introduced the Reeds to her companions, Beric Dondarrion and Gendry Waters, who also received skeptically glances from Lord Howland.

"So, what brings you here, my lady?" Lord Howland asked. "To be honest, we didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, we were on our way to Winterfell," Arya started to explain. "When your men surrounded us. Captain Marsh then insisted that I should be brought to see you for something that concerns my lord father."

Howland and Carron exchanged glances. Then Howland Reed sighed and turned to her. "May we have a word in private, Princess?" He asked. "In the meantime, your companions will be welcomed into the Keep. The swamps are dangerous, even for us Crannogmen."

"We thank you for your hospitality, Lord Reed." Arya said. "But we still have men we left behind at the Causeway."

"How many?" Lord Howland asked.

"About fourteen, my lord." Beric answered.

Howland considered this. Then turned to Carron. "Have those men board the boats and be escorted here." He said.

Carron nodded in agreement.

"We'll go with you, Captain Marsh." Beric suggested. "They'll never go with you unless they're told by orders of the princess."

Arya patted her direwolf's head. "Nymeria, go with them." She instructed.

Lord Reed gestured for her to follow him, and she did.

"Oh, another thing, Lord Reed," Carron called out.

Lord Howland turned and faced him. "Yes," He waited.

"We've received word the Prince Brandon has returned to Winterfell." Carron informed.

Hearing the news, Arya's heart nearly leaped from her chest. _Bran's home,_ she thought.

Lord Howland's face brightened as well. "With Meera and Jojen?" He asked, hopefully. But there was something wrong with his expression, like he expected bad news.

Carron Marsh looked down. That alone meant it's bad news. "Only your daughter returned with the Prince, my lord." He said. "Your son—" He faltered, then shook his head.

Lord Howland never showed any kind of emotion. He turned to his wife, who gave him a sad, reassuring smile. He nodded at Carron. "Thank you, Carron."

Carron started to leave but Arya called him. "Wait, Captain Marsh," She beckoned, which made him turn to her. "If there's news about my brother Bran," She asked. "What about Rickon?"

Carron gulped, and turned to Howland Reed. The expression on his face was enough to tell that it was another bad news.

Arya turned to Lord Howland as Carron left with Beric, Gendry and Nymeria.

Lord Howland sighed as he led her to the highest tower of Greywater. "Prince Rickon…" He started to say. "He was killed by Ramsay Bolton when your brother and sister took Winterfell." He said. "I'm sorry, princess."

Arya looked down. They lost their father to the Lannisters, their mother and eldest brother, Robb to the Freys, and now, their youngest brother, Rickon to the Boltons. _So there's only four of us left_ , she thought. _Jon, Sansa, Bran and me._

Arya simply nodded. "I'm sorry about your son, as well." She said. "Bran can't walk. I'm pretty sure he died protecting him."

Lord Howland gave a sad smile.

"I'm still puzzled by that idea though," Arya said. "Sending your son and daughter to aid my brothers."

Lord Howland chuckled as she led her up a flight of steps in the tower. "My daughter Meera isn't like any lady you'd expect to meet, princess." He said. "I made sure of that."

Arya frowned. Lord Howland might have seen the curious look she was giving him because he continued. "I taught her to use weapons." He explained. "To shoot an arrow, to swing a sword and to aim a spear. I wanted her to be able to defend herself, you know. I don't want her to end up like—" He faltered. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Arya assured. "I know what you mean, Lord Reed." She did understood what he meant. He didn't want his daughter to end up like her aunt Lyanna, who was defenseless as she was carted off by Prince Rhaegar. "But what about your son?" She asked.

Lord Howland turned to her.

"You said your trained you daughter," Arya recalled. "What about your son? Didn't you train him to fight as well?" She asked.

"My son, Jojen had other abilities." Lord Howland explained. "I planned to train him when gets older, but then he got caught with greywater fever. He was bedridden for weeks and nearly died. Then one morning when he woke up, he was different. His once purple eyes had turned into an unusual shade of green. Then he started seeing…things."

"What things?" Arya asked.

"Things, events that haven't happened yet," Lord Howland suggested. "Things that had happened long before, or are happening right now, miles away." He said. "It was through him that we learned that the Ironborn had invaded the North and taken castles, including Winterfell. And that your younger brothers, the princes, Brandon and Rickon were alive. And I sent both my children to find and protect them."

"How did they get passed Moat Cailin if the Ironborn had already garrisoned it?" Arya asked.

Lord Howland smiled. "Moat Cailin isn't the only way further north for us crannogmen, princess."

They reached the top floor of the tower.

"Anyways," Arya said. "What did Captain Marsh meant when he said you have something that concerned my father?" She asked.

Howland Reed led her to room and opened the door for her. The room was empty, except for a wooden truck on a dais.

Arya's eyes widened as she turned back to Lord Howland, who encourage her to check it out. She entered the room and walked towards the trunk.

She knelt and opened it. It contained bones. The remains of a person. Then she spotted leather armor, stained with dried blood. The very same one her father wore the day he lost his head in King's Landing. Only then did Arya realize she was looking at her father's remains.

Arya bowed down her head and let the tears fell. She remembered being there that day, with nothing she could do to stop it from happening. "How did these get into your possession?" She asked, still with her back to Howland Reed, keeping him from seeing her cry.

"Your father's remains was sent to your mother." He explained. "Then your brother, King Robb had it sent to Winterfell with Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont to be buried in the Crypts. When they reached the Neck, it was only then that they found out that the Ironborn had garrisoned Moat Cailin. So they went find me and placed it in my care, while they fought off the Ironborn. Sadly, they never returned."

Arya closed the trunk, wiped her tears and turned to him. "Is this why you ordered men at the Causeway to question anyone going North?" She asked. "You're looking for someone who can return it to Winterfell?"

Lord Howland nodded. "I was going to give it to the Boltons when they passed the Causeway, but I found out they played a part in your brother and mother's murder at the Twins." He said. "After that, we Crannogmen stopped trusting anyone, even our fellow Northmen."

"We never retook Moat Cailin from the Ironborn," He continued. "We don't have enough men and supplies to do so. All we needed to do was use the swamps as an obstruction to the invaders. We made sure no Ironborn would get further south, and no Lannister men would end up further north."

Without thinking, Arya ran to him and gave him a hug, which surprised him. "Thank you, Lord Reed. For everything you've done to my family." At that moment Arya was definitely convinced that House Reed is indeed House Stark's most loyal bannerman.

Howland Reed patted her back. "Your father was an honorable man," He said. "And a very good friend. He would've done the same. And so would your aunt Lyanna." He sighed and walked outside towards the stepped battlements of the tower.

Arya followed him. "You helped my father rescue her from the Targaryens, right?" She said.

Lord Howland nodded. "But she more than just my liege lord's daughter, you know." He said. "She was a friend. Saved my life more than once, she did. Even tended to my wounds. Even to this day, I still can't believe she started a war."

"She didn't start the war," Arya corrected. "Rhaegar Targaryen started the war when he kidnapped her."

"Of course," Lord Howland said. "Another thing, princess. I don't mean to offend you, but I assumed that you and your party had something to do with the show we saw last night."

Arya frowned. "What do you mean?" She asked.

Howland Reed stared out in the distance. Arya followed his gaze and saw what he meant.

Sure enough, beyond the topmost foliages of the swamp's trees, she saw the burnt ruins of the Twins. Arya had almost forgotten that the Greywater was about more or less seventy leagues from the Twins, and about a hundred if travelling by the Kingsroad.

Black smoke still emerged from the fallen towers. But the bridge that connected the towers had already crumbled down, with the rubbles washed away by the Green Fork's current.

Arya never said anything about it.

"Anyways," Lord Howland said. "It's only right that it's you who would bring your father back home."

Arya sighed. "First Robb, now my father. I don't suppose you have my mother's body as well?" She asked sarcastically.

Lord Howland frowned. "Robb?" He repeated. "You found his body?" He asked.

Arya nodded.

Lord Howland nodded. "I'll have a cart for them, then." He promised. "So that you can bring them home and finally rest beside their family in the Crypts beneath Winterfell."

Arya frowned. "Aren't you coming with us?" She said.

"I would love to, princess." Lord Howland said. "But I can't."

"Why not?" Arya asked. "If you do come, you know you're going to see your daughter again. Don't you want that?"

Lord Howland raised an eyebrow at her. "You _are_ very much like your aunt Lyanna," He said. "She was persuasive too."


	24. Suspicions

As usual, Bran was having greendreams again.

He saw his sister, Arya, with a direwolf beside her. _Nymeria_ , he recalled. She was standing before a man Bran had seen in one of his visions before, only he was older. The man had dirty blond hair, green eyes and a green cloak held together by a lizard-lion shaped clasp. _Howland Reed,_ Bran thought. Meera's father. She had met him in a floating castle where the trees were half-submerged in water.

 _You look like her…_ A voice said as images flashed before him. _Very much like her._

The scene changed. This time, Arya was kneeling before a wooden trunk. And when she opened it, she gasped.

 _…_ _bring your father back home._ The same voice spoke again.

Then the scene changed again. This time, he saw the castles that were burning again. But it was viewed from afar. Black smoke emerged from the fallen towers and the bridge that connected the towers had already crumbled down.

 _The North remembers._

Bran woke with a start. It took him a second to remember that he was back in his chambers in Winterfell. He pushed himself up on his elbows and sat up.

Strangely after leaving Winterfell, he had gotten use to waking up in sight of tree foliages next to his brother Rickon; and as they went beyond the Wall, next to Meera. Now, he woke up in his chambers on a soft featherbed, alone. Except for the direwolf, Winter lounging by the rug near the fireplace.

He grabbed one of the grab handles Mikken had installed before to help him move around and pulled himself to sit up.

Winter got up and rushed to him. Bran gently patted his head. "Good morning, boy." Somehow, being back in his room reminded him of Summer. He usually had someone he could tell his dreams to when he woke. It had been a habit of his since leaving Winterfell.

Jon and Sansa aren't even aware of his abilities, not yet. That meant he needed Meera, partly because she's the only one who knows about his greendreams and visions, and also because it concerned her father, Howland Reed. But to do that, he's going to need to find her first.

Bran leaned towards his direwolf. "Winter, can you please find Meera for me?" He asked.

The direwolf nuzzled his palm then went out the room.

. . .

Meera was breaking her fast at Winterfell's great hall. She sat between Lady Brienne of Tarth and Lord Robett Glover; across Lady Lyanna Mormont and Lady Alys Karstark.

The lords and ladies from the northern houses sworn to the Starks were all seated by a long table just below the dais, where the members of the Stark family have their meals. There were only five women who represented northern houses. The others being, Lady Barbrey Dustin of Barrowton and Lady Eddara Tallhart of Torrhen's Square, and with Lady Brienne being from Tarth Island in the Stormlands, the princess and Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark, had taken the liberty to separate the ladies from the lords even though they still sat along the same long table.

Across from Lord Glover and next to Lady Mormont, was Littlemors Umber. Next to the little lord, was the wildling, Tormund Giantsbane.

"…winds are growing colder everyday, little lord." Tormund told Littlemors Umber with a lot of hand gestures. Between him telling his stories, he would occasionally grin at their direction and give a wink to Brienne. Lady Tarth would only scoff in annoyance while the rest of them would just snicker.

Robett Glover leaned over to Meera. "I've learned to tolerate him the whole ride to Castle Black and back here, my lady." He said. "I'm sure you've done the same."

Meera nodded. "Prince Bran and I can hear him loud and clear from the cart, Lord Glover." She said. "It's safe to say that we had no other choice."

Meera remembered their ride from Castle Black to Winterfell. Tormund had told them his smug stories endlessly with a lot of hand gestures. Even if he was mostly talking to Robett Glover, she and Bran could still hear him.

"…who knows when—" He faltered, staring at something behind her.

Mors Umber, gestured to something behind her. "Uh, Lady Reed?"

Meera looked up from her meal. "Hmm?" She asked.

Both Tormund and Littlemors Umber pointed at someone or something behind her. Most of the people shrieked when they saw it. Curious, Meera turned and saw the light grey furred direwolf Winter, staring at her with his bright yellow eyes.

"Winter," Meera smiled. She reached out her hand and gently patted the direwolf's head.

"That direwolf has grown close with you, I see," Tormund spoke up. "Don't know if it's some sort of skill of the crannogmen to have faster bonds with animals."

"It's no skill," Meera corrected. "We may be living in the swamps, but most of the crannogmen are scared of lizard-lions."

"Well," Lord Glover said. "Most of us have been here for almost a fortnight, and still find ourselves uncomfortable seeing that white direwolf following King Jon around." He admitted. "Even Princess Sansa wouldn't get near it."

Meera turned her attention back to Winter. "What are you doing here, boy?" She asked. "Where's Bran?"

Winter's eyes momentarily turned to white, then back to yellow. Meera's smile disappeared. _Bran_ , she thought.

The others seemed to notice her expression. "My lady, is everything alright?" Lady Brienne asked.

Meera turned back to the others seated on the table, who were staring at her. "Everything's fine." She forced out a smile. "If you'll excuse me, my lords and ladies," She said as she stood from her seat. "I have somewhere to be off to."

She turned to the direwolf. "Lead the way." She whispered.

Winter _or Bran,_ whichever, led her to a few flights of stairs in the castle. Half of all the stairs' width in Winterfell was flattened to a ramp by orders of King Jon. That is, to allow Bran to navigate the castle on his chair.

. . .

Bran had changed himself into the clothes Sansa had placed out for him on his wheeled chair. He had warged into Winter after and led Meera up to his chambers.

Moments later, Winter and Meera burst in. "Bran," She called out, sounding panicked. "Is everything alright?" She asked.

"Everything's fine, Meera." Bran assured, as he stroke Winter's hide.

"You warged into Winter," Meera recalled. "I thought you were in some kind of trouble."

"I'm fine," He said again. "And I did send Winter to find you."

"Why?" She asked.

Bran looked down. He could tell she already knew.

"You've been having greendreams again." She guessed. "Haven't you?"

Bran nodded. "I'm sorry I disturbed you." He said. "I couldn't tell anyone else. And it's bothering me. Ever since we returned from north of the Wall, it has become frequent."

Meera sat on the foot of his bed and turned to him. "Alright, what did you see?" She asked.

Bran sighed. "I saw my sister again." He admitted.

"Arya?" Meera guessed.

He nodded. "She's heading North." He confirmed. "But, she was in the swamps, and I think she went to see your father in Greywater Watch."

Meera frowned. "What?" She asked as if she'd misheard. "Are you sure? Why would she go see my father?"

"I don't know." Bran admitted. "But it must've been important. She wouldn't just go to Greywater Watch if it wasn't." Then a thought came to him. _Speaking of Howland Reed,_ he thought. "Does your father know anything, you know, about Jon?" He asked. "I mean, he was there when my father rescued aunt Lyanna."

Meera shook her head. "I don't know, Bran." She admitted. "Like I said, he never mentioned anything at all about what he did during Robert's Rebellion. And if Jojen saw something, he never told me anything."

Bran leaned back on his headboard.

"Speaking of Jon," Meera said. "When are you telling him?" She asked.

Bran shrugged. "I don't know." He said.

"Well, you have to tell him eventually." Meera insisted.

"I know that." Bran said. "But, what I saw isn't enough of a fact for him to believe me. Even with you as the other witness. I need more proof, particularly people who knew about it."

"What else did you see?" She asked.

"Two castles," Bran recalled. "On the banks of a river with one on the either side and a bridge connecting them."

"The Twins." Meera said.

"What?" Bran frowned. "How do you know?" He asked.

"Two castles with a bridge connecting them." Meera repeated. "It's the Twins or the Crossing. The seat of House Frey. I know, because it's still visible atop Greywater's highest tower."

"It was on fire." Bran said. "Thick black smoke came from it. And the bridge connecting it has collapsed." He paused. "And it wasn't also the first time I'd seen Arya in my visions. I've seen her walking away from the castles while they were ablaze. At first, I thought I was seeing my aunt Lyanna again, but she had a direwolf with her so—"

"Hold on," Meera interrupted. "Why did you think you were seeing your aunt Lyanna?" She asked.

"Because Arya looks like her." Bran blurted out. "They're very much alike. Anyways, I saw her walking away from it with a direwolf at her side. And she was smiling in delight."

Meera frowned. "Wait, are you saying your sister besieged the Twins?" She asked in disbelief.

Bran shrugged. "She might've." He said, which made Meera's eyes widened. "But she didn't do it alone. She had help. I saw soldiers with chestplates engraved with the sigils of Houses Mallister and Blackwood, which are both loyal bannermen of the Tullys. And Lady Brienne had mentioned that Arya had rallied Tully bannermen to free our uncle Edmure."

"Jon and Sansa have been scouring information about your sister, Arya." Meera said. "That's big news. When are you going to tell them that?" She asked.

"I don't know." Bran sighed. "They don't even know I'm a warg and a greenseer. I don't know how to explain it."

"Hey," Meera slid closer to him and squeezed his arm affectionately. "For whatever all this is worth, know that I will be right here with you." She promised. "I won't leave Winterfell until you tell them the truth."

Bran looked up at her and smiled. "Thanks." He said. "How am I even going to do that? How they're going to take it, is what I'm worried about, especially Jon."

"Don't give up hope." Meera said. "You said you need more proof, then seek out more proof. You have a Weirwood tree in your godswood, right? That's a place to start."

"Right," Bran said. "Of course." He scooted himself to the edge of the bed as he attempted to sit himself on his wheeled chair, but Meera carried him and placed him on the chair, much to his surprise.

"You didn't have to." Bran said, feeling his face turning red.

"I carried you lots of times beyond the Wall and at Castle Black," Meera recalled. "Don't act like you haven't gotten use to it. I'm stronger than you think, my prince."

If it was possible, that comment only made his face turner redder.

" _Bran_ ," He corrected. "To you, it's just Bran. No titles."

Meera raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about titles?" She asked.

Bran sighed. "Let's just get to the godswood." He said, trying to avoid the subject.

Meera shook her head. "No, not yet." She countered.

"But you just said—" Bran started to say.

"I know what I said, Bran." Meera interrupted. "We _will_ go there, but you first need to break your fast." She suggested.

Bran snorted. "That can wait, Meera." He said.

"Your brother and sister will also be looking for you." She added.

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. _"Bran?"_ A voice called. It was his sister, Sansa. _"Are you up?"_ She asked.

Meera turned to Bran. "I told you they'd be looking for you." She said.

"Yeah, come in." Bran yelled back.

The door to his chambers opened and his sister walked in. Sansa was carrying a cloak on one arm and was clearly surprised when she saw Meera inside.

"Lady Reed," Sansa said. "I half-expect you down the great hall by now."

"I was, princess," Meera replied. "But apparently, your brother sent for me to be here."

"Oh, you don't need to call me that," Sansa insisted. " _Sansa_ would be just fine." She turned back to Bran. "Anyways, why would you summon Lady Meera in your chambers?" She asked.

"Well," Bran started to say. He wanted to be honest to his sister, to tell her about his abilities. He opened his mouth, but no explanation came out. He sighed. "It's hard to explain and it's a long story."

Sansa raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between him and Meera, looking unconvinced. "Okay?"

Meera cleared her throat. "If you'll excuse me, Sansa, Bran," She said. "I'm just gonna leave you two to catch up." She bowed at them, patted Winter's head before heading out the door.

. . .

Sansa waited for Meera leave the room before turning to her brother. "You know she's a little older than you, right?" She said, smirking.

"Yes, I know that," Bran said. "She's probably about Jon's age."

"Hmm, I have to say," Sansa said. "I like Meera, she sort of reminds me of Arya, except she has courtesy and is a lot more respectful compared to our sister."

"And she's handy with weapons too." Bran added.

Sansa raised an eyebrow at her brother. "You've seen her fight?" She asked.

"Meera had basically become my protector," Bran said. "Of course, I've seen her fight."

From the way Bran talked about her, Sansa could already tell. "Mm-hmm," She smirked. "And fancying your protector is before or after you've seen her fight?" She asked.

Bran's face turned bright red. "What?" He shrieked. "What does that got to do with anything?" He asked. "And I don't fancy her, she's my friend."

 _Denial,_ Sansa thought. Yep, Bran definitely sees Meera as more than his protector.

Bran shrugged in annoyance. "What are you doing here anyway?" He asked.

Sansa had almost forgotten why she went to see her brother. "Oh, I almost forgot," She handed him the cloak she was carrying. "I made this for you."

Bran took it and frowned at her.

"The Lord of Winterfell has to look the part." Sansa said. When Jon received the letter from Castle Black about Bran, she spent most of her free time sewing new clothes for Bran. And the cloak had just been finished before she slept the night before.

"But you're the Lady of Winterfell." Bran brought up.

"You know very well that a son has strong claim than a daughter." Sansa said. "Besides, I don't care about titles. I'm just glad you're home. I just hope Arya would be too, wherever she is."

"Thank you, Sansa." Bran said and then removed the old one he had, which had gotten smaller.

"You're welcome." Sansa replied as she helped her brother put the new one on.

"Arya _will_ be home soon." Bran said with certainty. "Don't worry about it. She's already at the Neck."

Sansa frowned. "What?" She asked, as if she'd misheard him. Bran just spoke out like he knew Arya's exact location. "How do you know that?"

Bran grimaced, like he regretted that he just said it. "I told you," He said. "It's very hard to explain."

"Does Meera know about this?" Sansa asked. "With whatever you said was hard to explain? Is that why you summoned her here? And how did you even managed to summon her?"

Bran nodded. "Look, I'll explain it to you and Jon some other time." He promised. "I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Suddenly, Winter went to Bran, nuzzled his hand and wagged his tail. Sansa felt a pang of envy surge through her. She wished her direwolf, Lady was still alive. She might've protected her from Joffrey and Ramsay and all those who hurt her.

"Winter, will you stop being so-" Bran complained, as Winter was starting to be annoying. "I think we should head to the great hall to break our fasts." He suggested.

"Do you really wanna go or is it because your direwolf's hungry?" Sansa asked.

"Can we please just go?" Bran said, turning to his direwolf. "Come on, boy."

"Alright," Sansa said as she pushed his chair out the room, with Winter following closely behind.


	25. Home in Winterfell (Part 1)

_Just after breaking his fast_ , his sister, Sansa had insisted that Bran should sit with them to hold court for their people and perform their duties as Lord of Winterfell and as King in the North.

Jon sat at the center, with Bran on his right, and Sansa on his left. For days holding court with him, Sansa had easily gotten use to it. But he didn't know how Bran handled it with ease. Even on his wheeled chair, sitting next to him, Bran projected more self-confidence and poise than he ever did. Jon figured that it was because Robb left Bran as the _Stark in Winterfell_ when he declared war on Joffrey for executing their father. Bran had to grow up fast. He had to become Lord of Winterfell at age of ten, and control the entire North in their eldest brother's absence, and also, taking care of their youngest brother, Rickon.

He could also see their father in Bran, too. Like their father, a second-born son, Bran had to take the responsibilities of a title that wasn't supposed to be his. Jon felt like they were repeating history: Their father and eldest brother rode south on a king's demand, with their brother trying to save their father and bargain for their captive sister.

"That's everyone," Bran noted. "For today, at least." He said.

Jon was so lost in thought that he hadn't notice Bran and Sansa calling his attention.

"Jon," Sansa called. "Everything alright?" She asked.

"I'm alright." He said. "I was just…lost in my thoughts."

"Well, if you are in thought," Sansa started to say. "Try to think about what we're going to do with the Dreadfort with the Boltons gone."

Bran cleared his throat. "I thought you were giving the Dreadfort to the Free Folk." He said.

But before Jon could answer, Maester Wolkan rushed into the great hall. "Your grace," He bowed. "My lords and ladies." He handed a folded parchment to Sansa. "For you, princess."

Sansa took the parchment then her eyes widened and turned back to the Maester.

"What is it?" Jon asked.

"It was sent from Riverrun, my lady." Maester Wolkan informed.

Sansa read the contents and her eyebrows furrowed.

"But I thought Riverrun was under the control of the Freys." Bran said. "And Uncle Edmure's a prisoner at the Twins, right?" He asked.

When Sansa was done reading, she smiled at them. "Not anymore." She showed them the parchment and the blue sealed wax with a leaping trout. The sigil of House Tully. "Uncle Edmure's back in Riverrun. And we have Arya to thank for it."

"What?" Jon said in disbelief as he took the parchment from his sister and read silently.

 _"_ _My dear niece Sansa,_

 _At your sister's request, I have sent this letter to inform you that the Freys of the Crossing who murdered my sister—your mother, brother, sister by law, and our entire forces have been taken care of with the help of loyal Tully bannermen of which your sister, Arya had rallied together. Now, I have called upon the bonds of our words,_ Family, Duty, Honor _, and declare the Riverlands in support for your brother, Jon Stark, as the King in the North, the Vale and the Trident, as Robb was before him._

 _Edmure Tully, Lord of Riverrun."_

When he was done, Jon set the letter down, and Bran took it from him.

"The Riverlands is back in our fold." Sansa said with delight. "You're not just the King in the North and the Vale, but the Trident as well." Her smile disappeared, when she saw his expression. "What is it?" She asked.

There's something about that letter that's disturbing, Jon thought. "What did your uncle mean by _the Freys of the Crossing have been taken care of?_ " He asked. "How? Lady Brienne had mentioned Arya had rallied Tully bannermen to free Edmure Tully, yes. But to get to him, you'd have to pass enemy lines. But I think _taken care of"_ Jon quoted his fingers in the air. "Has a deeper meaning to it than just killing off soldiers in warfare."

Bran absent-mindedly placed the letter on the table. Jon noticed that his brother had a darker expression than he had. Perhaps, Bran understood what he meant. But what Jon didn't understand was how Bran looked across the dais at someone. Jon followed his gaze and saw that he was looking at Meera Reed, and there was some sort of understanding that passed between them. Jon raised an eyebrow, right then he immediately implied that Bran and Meera knew more than they were telling them.

Jon was about to ask his brother, when Davos Seaworth burst into the room.

"Your grace," Davos addressed. "The sentries have spotted men approaching."

Jon paled. "Is it the Lannister army?" He asked doubtfully. He hoped it wasn't. They had just gone through one battle to take back the North and Winterfell from the Boltons. They were not ready to fight another one against the Lannisters.

"No, your grace," Davos said. "They're carrying banners of the Crannogmen."

Jon sighed in relief for a moment. _Thank the gods_ , he thought. But if it isn't the Lannister army then who are these people? He exchanged uncertain looks with his siblings, who looked confused and curious as he was. Everyone else started talking at the same time.

"Which banners exactly, Ser Davos?" Sansa asked.

"The Lizard-lion, princess." Davos replied.

"But the Lizard-lion banner is—" Sansa started to say.

"Of House Reed." Bran finished, then turned to Meera and smiled.

Meera Reed, however, looked really confused and uncomfortable with everyone's attention on her.

"They're entering Wintertown as we speak." Davos continued. "And…they seemed to have a pack of wolves travelling with them."

"Wolves?" Sansa repeated, like the idea bothered her. "In the swamps of the Neck?" She asked, turning to Meera for confirmation.

"There aren't wolves in the swamps, princess." Meera confirmed. "Just lizard-lions and snakes."

Suddenly, the direwolves, Ghost and Winter who were sprawled by their masters' feet, abruptly stood tall to their feet, which shook the table and startled all three of them.

The direwolves had their heads tilted high and their ears straight up.

"Ghost," Jon called. "What is it, boy?"

Winter started howling, then Ghost followed.

"What's wrong with them now?" Sansa whispered.

Jon shook his head. "I don't know."

The direwolves raced out of the great hall. Davos had to step aside and move out of the way to avoid being overrun.

Bran was the first to move. "We need to get out there and meet them." He insisted as he maneuvered his wheeled chair down the dais.

"Bran—" Sansa started to say.

"Sansa," Bran interrupted. "Ser Davos mentioned a pack of wolves, and I think I know why that is."

Sansa shrugged. "What?" She asked.

"Arya's with them." Bran blurted out.

Jon considered it. He trusted his direwolf Ghost with his life. One time, Ghost had sensed the presence of a Wight and had almost killed Lord Commander Mormont, until he threw a lamp at it which caused the Wight to burn.

"Bran's right." He agreed. "The wolves always sense everything before we do." He stood from his chair and followed his little brother towards the doors. "And they're never wrong."

Sansa sighed and followed. Everyone else trailed after them.

. . .

For two days, they have been travelling further north. It would probably just been a shorter trip, but the heavy snowfall and cold winds were not helping.

After a lot of discussion, Arya had finally convinced Lord Howland Reed to come with them to Winterfell. Mostly, it's to compensate for everything he'd done for her family and also, so that he'd be able to see his daughter, Meera again.

Howland Reed had remained loyal to the Starks. He went with her father south to rescue her aunt Lyanna; he had kept her father's remains safe when the forces Robb sent to retake the North fell to the Ironborn; and he even sent his own children to protect her younger brothers, Bran and Rickon, from the Ironborn. For that, Arya is forever grateful to him and his family.

To get to Winterfell from the Kingsroad, you have to pass through Wintertown.

Arya noticed people staring at them as they passed by. She didn't know what made them stare. It's probably because they were carrying crannogmen banners and they were known to rarely leave the swamps in the Neck. It's either that, or Nymeria and her Wolfpack. Or both.

On the lead were two Crannogmen carrying the Lizard-lion banners of House Reed. Arya rode just behind them, with her direwolf Nymeria at her side. To her right, was the Lord of Greywater Watch himself, Howland Reed, in his mud-green cloak

Behind them were Beric Dondarrion and Gendry. They were followed by the Hound, and Thoros of Myr. The cart that carried her father's and her brother's remains had two crannogmen pulling it, and two others guarding its rear. Behind them were about thirteen more members of the Brotherhood and the rest of the wolves from Nymeria's Wolfpack.

Since crannogmen rarely used horses, some of the men from the Brotherhood had given up theirs for the crannogmen pulling the cart. About four men sat behind the cart.

Howland Reed had offered her to ride the horse cart, but she had refused. She couldn't ride on it without turning sad, since the cart was carrying both her father and her brother's remains.

Glancing back at her father's and brother's remains, Arya wondered if their family is either cursed or what had happened to their house patriarch and eldest son purely coincidental.

 _History will always repeat itself,_ the red woman had said. _If not in the way we expect._

Her grandfather, Rickard Stark and her uncle, Brandon Stark, who had died before she and her siblings were even born, both went south at a king's demand. Both of them were killed unjustly, and Brandon died trying to save his father.

Something similar happened to her father, and her brother, Robb.

Her mother, Catelyn Tully was supposed to marry her uncle Brandon. But since he had died in the capital, she ended up marrying his younger brother, her father, Eddard. _So now, what?_ Arya thought. Is Bran going to marry Robb's intended now? Or is it going to be Jon since he'd been legitimized. That's as if her father had actually had arranged a match for Robb before he went south and lost his head on Joffrey's orders. Or maybe he already had, but died before he could tell Robb. Their lady mother had arranged one for him and her, much to her dismay, to have the support of the Freys. But Robb breached the pact and married a foreigner, whose name she didn't even know.

 _Politics is complicated_ , she thought. And she had never understood much of it anyway, much less to care. She didn't care who was ruling the North. If it's a Stark of Winterfell or if there are Starks in Winterfell left. She just wanted to go home.

Arya remembered her father's words to her. _You're a Stark of Winterfell,_ he had said. _You know our words._ Then she had answered. _Winter is coming._ But winter is already here. _And in the winter, we must protect ourselves and look after one another._ Her father, mother and brothers, Robb and Rickon are gone. Now, she's only got Jon, Sansa and Bran, and they're probably waiting for her to return home, assuming Brienne had told them where she was or what she had been doing. Or how they will react to what she had done in the Riverlands, storming four castles, with the Twins counted as two, three nights in a row and destroying two and the bridge connecting it by burning it to the ground; and also unintentionally wiping out a supposed great house to extinction.

"Been a while since the last time I was here." Lord Howland spoke up, bringing her back to reality.

"When was that, Lord Reed?" She asked.

Lord Howland huffed. "It was about nearly two decades ago." He replied. "When your father called his banners during the days of the rebellion. I left this castle then with your father, and now I'm back with his daughter."

Arya managed to smile. Not just because she's home, but because she's also going back to Winterfell with a man who was a friend to her father, the legendary crannogman who survived a duel with Arthur Dayne, at least that's what the stories said.

As they got closer to the gates, a sentry guard yelled. "Open the gates!"

"Welcome home, princess." He said.


End file.
